


a heartless woman and the man in black

by A_Spark_Of_Hope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Light Bondage, Lost Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 80,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Spark_Of_Hope/pseuds/A_Spark_Of_Hope
Summary: Boba Fett wants his armour back, and word of a Mandalorian wandering the dunes of Tatooine has caught his attention. When the only person who can point him in the right direction is left for dead in the Dune Sea, he decides to save her life in exchange for the information she can give him.Fennec Shand didn't expect anyone to rescue her after being shot and abandoned in the desert by a useless bounty hunter. And she certainly didn't expect her rescuer to share the same face as someone she loved and lost years ago.***Or: these characters looked at each other for 3 seconds and now I ship the hell out of it
Relationships: Boba Fett/Fennec Shand
Comments: 368
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

Twilight bathed the Dune Sea of Tatooine in a beautiful orange-purple light. Workers had long since returned to their homes, not daring to travel the Dune Sea after dark, lest they encounter the less-than-friendly Tuskens. But even those famed warriors, the original residents of Tatooine had long since retreated to their camps. They had families and duties of their own to attend to, and saw little benefit in exposing themselves to the dangers of the desert on the off-chance they encountered one of the invaders. 

The landscape was silent then, save for the odd creature scurrying about, either in a final attempt to find food that day, or otherwise in an attempt to avoid becoming food for something larger. Indeed, it was so peaceful there was little to suggest that a skirmish had taken place here earlier, one involving a Mandalorian, a hot-headed bounty hunter, and the ruthless mercenary they were tracking. The two men had long since left the hillside caves where the fighting took place. The Mandalorian had gone first, followed shortly by the bounty hunter. But had anyone been curious enough to observe that particular hillside, they would have noticed that the mercenary was led up to the caves, but did not come back down, either by her own free will, or as a captive of one of her pursuers.

Fennec Shand lay on the ground, unable to move, cursing her own stupidity at not leaving Tatooine sooner. Actually, she primarily cursed the stupidity, and frankly the cruelty of Toro Calican, who had shot her in the gut and just left her for dead. He didn’t have the courtesy to finish the job, or the professionalism to take her in and hand her over to the guild. No, he’d just shot her and left her to bleed out, her organs a tangled, shredded mess. She’d been in this game a long time, and had never operated within what one might call “civilized, upstanding society”, but even she had the decency to completely eliminate a target once she’d begun pursuing them.

A rustling noise caught Fennec’s attention. In the rapidly falling darkness, she could make out a robed figure approaching, his steps deliberate and calculated. 

_A Tusken?,_ she wondered. But no, this figure was cloaked in black, not in sand-coloured robes. Besides, she could see two gloveless hands, calloused and scarred, poking out from under the sleeves of the robe, and Tuskens never exposed their skin to the harsh desert air. They also didn’t carry blasters like the one this stranger was resting their hand on.

The stranger held a gaffi stick, and Fennec braced herself, ready for this figure to show her a degree of mercy and put her out of her misery. But to her surprise, they set the weapon down in the sand instead, then took the last few steps towards her.

The figure knelt down next to Fennec, gently brushed her hair aside and placed two fingers at her throat, checking for a pulse. They would never find it that way, she could feel how weak her heartbeat had become. The figure shifted slightly as they sought out a better vantage point. She decided to save her potential rescuer the trouble by letting out an audible groan.

The hand retreated at once, travelling down to gingerly examine her abdomen. Despite the caution, even the gentlest touch send waves of pain radiating through Fennec. She hissed through gritted teeth. That seemed to decide it for the stranger. With one hand supporting her back, and the other behind her knees, Fennec found herself being scooped up and hastily carried away. 

She wondered if delirium was a common side effect of dying. For she had to be hallucinating. Her new proximity to her rescuer gave her a view of his face in the fading light of the Tatooine evening. 

_I must be dying_ Fennec thought as she lost consciousness. _His face looks just like Cutter’s_.

***

In the five years since the nightmare in the Sarlacc pit, Boba Fett’s life had taken on a monotonous rhythm. He’d crawled out of the mouth of that hell beast, wounded and burned from the falling debris of Jabba’s pleasure barge. The same flaming detritus that had killed the Sarlacc, so Boba supposed he owed Han Solo his life, however indirectly. Injured, incoherent, Boba tried to make the long trek back to Mos Eisley on foot.

He didn’t make it.

When he came to, he’d been picked up by Tuskens and was recovering in their camp. His armour was nowhere to be found, and a couple of carefully phrased questions to their leader, who understood a little Basic, revealed that he hadn’t had it when they found him. It must have been Jawas then. 

Boba mourned the loss of his armour, the last connection he had with his father, other the face they both shared. He threw himself into his recovery, eventually regaining enough strength to join the Tusken warriors in their weapons training, and to teach them some new skills in exchange. 

Months later, fully healed, with only some scars and burn marks to show for his ordeal, a new gaffi stick at his back, and an old bantha to ride, Boba Fett finally made it to Mos Eisley.

In the time he’d spent stranded on this unbearable hot ball of dust, Boba was driven by one goal: find his father’s armour and get out. It was too much to expect that any Jawa still had it. By this point it could be anywhere on Tatooine. 

So Boba waited. And he listened.

Mos Eisley was the biggest settlement on Tatooine, yet word travelled fast all the same. Though Boba had chosen to settle in a small hut on the outskirts, he travelled into town quite frequently, seeking odds and ends for the small machine repair business he ran just to stay afloat. He kept his ear out for the slightest whisper of information that could lead him to what he sought. But after years of nothing at all to go on, he began to give up hope of ever reclaiming his armour. He considered simply claiming his ship from the docking bay where it had been sitting since he’d first arrived, and leaving. He wasn’t sure where he would go. Perhaps take up bounty hunting again, see if his name still commanded any respect. He’d been living under an assumed name on Tatooine just to be safe, but he was keen to embrace his identity and be Boba Fett once again. 

It was on one of his regular trips into town that Boba finally heard a bit of news that shattered the monotony. His machine parts acquired, he stopped in the cantina for a drink before heading home. There, he overheard two patrons gossiping far louder than they’d probably intended.

“No, it’s true,” one of them said. 

“I just can’t believe Toro Calican actually managed to hire someone. Like that someone was actually willing to work for him.”

Boba scoffed quietly into his drink. He was inclined to agree with the second speaker. He’d heard of this upstart Toro Calican, who fancied himself a bounty hunter, but gave anyone who’d ever held the profession a bad name. Word travelled fast in Mos Eisley after all.

“Not just anyone,” the first speaker whispered conspiratorially. “A _Mandalorian_.”

Boba froze in his seat. 

“A _Mandalorian_ agreed to help some punk track down Fennec Shand?” the second patron said, incredulity dripping from his every word. “Guy musta been desperate.”

“Musta been,” the first agreed. “They left for the Dune Sea first thing.”

“They’re both gonna die, going up against Shand all desperate like that!”

The two patrons laughed and loudly ordered another round, before changing the subject. Boba paid quickly and slipped out of the cantina into the harsh morning sunlight. 

He tracked them astride a beat-up speeder bike through the Dune Sea all day and into the next. After all, who’d ever heard of a lone Mandalorian living out on Tatooine? Boba held out hope that the Mandalorian he sought was merely a desperate individual who’d bought his armour off a jawa and was using it to strike fear in the hearts of those who didn’t know any better. 

Only once did he lose the trail, but a quick conversation with the local band of Tuskens was enough to steer him onto the right track. Boba was surprised to hear that Calican and the Mandalorian had run into the same tribe. More surprising still was learning that the Mandalorian understood their sign language and was able to communicate enough to ask for directions and information. 

_He must be local then,_ Boba thought as he bid the Tuskens farewell. Few travellers from offworld even knew that the Tuskens had a means of communicating with others. Boba certainly hadn’t at first. And for this individual to actually know the Tusken language to the point of proficiency filled Boba with a grudging respect. His curiosity spurred him on. He was keen to see what kind of person it was who knew how to communicate with the locals, yet wandered the dunes in stolen armour and took up with someone like Toro Calican. Boba hoped the man who had his armour would be reasonable enough to merely return it, as he would hate to kill someone so fascinating.

As the sun began to dip towards the end of the second day, Boba caught his first glance of his quarry. He followed the tracks left behind by a quick skirmish, narrowly avoiding the debris of a destroyed speeder. He crested the dune in time to see the Mandalorian hurriedly heading away from a small hilltop. He was already quite a distance away, and clearly very brave - or foolish - to be wandering the desert just before nightfall. The faint glow of a fire told Boba that someone was still sheltered on the hill. He paused, deciding whether to pursue the Mandalorian directly, or to simply lie in wait for him near the hilltop. 

The sound of blasterfire from the mouth of the cave caught his attention, and he looked up right as a second figure sprinted down the hill, hopped on a speeder bike and took off after the Mandalorian. That made his mind up for him. He would never find the Mandalorian in the rapidly falling dark, but perhaps the person who remained behind would be able to give him more information to go on. He would get nowhere driving back and forth across the Dune Sea endlessly.

Boba cautiously climbed the hill, his hand resting on the hilt of his small blaster. He scanned the hilltop quickly, looking for hidden threats, and found none. The only sight to see, beyond the dying embers of a fire, was a woman curled up unmoving on the ground, her eyes half-open. He set his gaffi stick on the ground, and knelt, gently brushing her hair aside to check for a pulse, while carefully trying to avoid kneeling in blood. 

The benefit of being shot by a blaster - if one could call it that - was that they usually cauterized a wound on impact, and caused little internal damage. But she had been shot so inexpertly that the blaster bolts had severely shredded anything they’d come in contact with, and she’d been left in the middle of the Dune Sea to simply bleed out. Boba was disgusted. There was no honour in this. Even if you wound up killing your quarry, any bounty hunter worth their salt knew to finish the job. 

_This was Calican. Idiot_ , he thought, as he pressed his fingers over where her pulse should be. Another point in favour of the man who wore his armour, then. He was not so dishonourable as to leave someone to die in this way. 

He couldn’t detect a pulse. He shifted his hand to try again, when suddenly the woman - Fennec Shand, he assumed - groaned. Boba withdrew his hand. She was alive then. A quick assessment of the damage to her abdomen, amid her audible protests, and Boba found his mind was made up for him for the second time that night. He quickly but gently scooped her up in his arms to carry her back to his speeder. He would be able to bind her wound with the spare robe in his pack, and hopefully it would hold long enough to get them back to Mos Eisley. He would help her if he could, then get as much information on this Mandalorian as he could. 

He looked down at Fennec as he carried her, watching for any signs of her condition worsening. Her eyes were still half open, and unfocused. But once their eyes met, Boba noticed a strange expression cross her face. One of confusion and recognition. She weakly raised one of her hands, as if to reach for him, but the effort proved too much and she slipped into unconsciousness. 

Boba quickened his pace. She couldn’t die now. This was as close as he’d come to locating his fathers armour in years. She was his only lead and he needed her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this was dying, Fennec wished she could just get it over with. The last face she’d seen had been that of a man she’d known so long ago, but he was dressed in a black shroud instead of the white plastoid armour he’d worn back then. How strange, Fennec thought. Who knew the face of Death would be a familiar one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing reception of chapter 1! It's really encouraging, especially with such a new ship!
> 
> A little content warning: if you're the kind to get queasy at the mention of someone else being physically sick, be warned there's a bit of that here. I tried to write around it, but just know that it's there!

Boba set Fennec Shand down on his small scrubbed table far less gracefully than he’d intended to, and cursed his own carelessness. Wouldn’t that be just perfect? He had ridden all night and well into the next day, pushing his old speeder bike to its limits, all to get her back to civilization - whatever passed for it on Tatooine, at any rate - as fast as possible. For her to die now, taking the secret of the unknown Mandalorian to her grave, would be the cruelest twist of fate Boba could imagine. 

He switched on the overhead light, shed his outer robe, cleaned the dust of the road off his face and hands then turned all his attention to the woman lying on the table. He carefully removed her jacket and set it to the side. A quick inspection revealed no injuries other than her ruined abdomen. Boba did, however, find a blaster strapped to her leg, as well as a few carefully concealed knives. He removed all of these and set them far from the table. It wouldn’t do for her to suddenly wake, see a strange man standing over her and assume the worst. If what Boba had heard about Fennec Shand was true, if she wished it, he would be dead long before he realized what was happening. 

He peeled off the temporary bandage he’d put over the wound. It was sticky to the touch, and utterly useless to him now. He dropped it into an empty basin by his feet, and fetched some rags and a bowl. Water was a precious resource on Tatooine, and Boba knew it was a sign of his own desperation that he was willing to use so much of it for someone he didn’t know. When he had cleaned her up as much as he was able, Boba felt his heart sink. The damage was so much worse than he could have anticipated, and he didn’t have half of what he needed to adequately save her life. He glanced out the small window set high on the wall. The suns had begun to set, and businesses in town would be closing soon. 

He hurriedly grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and used it to soak his last clean rag. He used it to cover Fennec’s abdomen, then he donned his cloak once more and slipped out the door. He may not be able to get everything he needed to save her life today, but he might be able to get enough to keep her alive. 

***

If this was dying, Fennec wished she could just get it over with. The last face she’d seen had been that of a man she’d known so long ago, but he was dressed in a black shroud instead of the white plastoid armour he’d worn back then. How strange, Fennec thought. Who knew the face of Death would be a familiar one. 

But whatever, or whoever that face had belonged to, it hadn’t been Death. Fennec hoped that when it eventually came for her, it wouldn’t be so sadistic. She’d felt sweet relief once unconsciousness had taken her in the Dune Sea. But that was frequently interrupted by jostling and a persistent searing pain radiating out from her midsection. 

An indeterminable time later, Fennec felt herself beginning to come to, and immediately wishing she hadn’t bothered. The same persistent pain throbbed in her abdomen, now accompanied by a cold, prickling sensation. She was laying on a hard, uncomfortable surface, and a bright light was burning directly into her eyes. She concluded this couldn’t be the afterlife, it was simply too uncomfortable. She must still be alive, then. Someone had moved her off of that hilltop, but had clearly not bothered treating her. 

She tried to sit up. The pain spiked and the room spun around her. She let out a strangled groan and thumped back down to the table. She stopped moving then, but her head was still swimming and her stomach churned. She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick and had no way of sitting up. Her rescuer - or captor. She hadn’t decided yet - would return only to find their efforts wasted because she’d choked to death on her own stomach bile. Coughing, she tried to twist her upper body to the side. She spat out the sour something in her mouth: bile tinged with red. Never a good sign. 

Then panic set in. 

She heard a thumping overhead, and tried once again to sit up, her delirium making her forget the blinding pain that accompanied the slightest attempt at movement. A feeble attempt at adrenaline coursed through her, and she reached for her blaster.

Gone.

Her concealed weapons were, likewise, gone. Not a rescuer then, but a captor. She braced herself on the table, her eyes wide and alarmed, focused on the stairs leading into the small dwelling. Soft footsteps grew louder and louder until the same black-shrouded figure who’d rescued her materialized at the bottom of the stairs. He pushed back his hood, and stared at her in surprise.

“Cutter?”, she asked weakly, before all the excitement and agony simply became too much. She leaned to the side and spat up again. 

How could Cutter be here now? She’d seen him die. Held him as the light left his eyes. He was haunting her then. That was the only answer.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, heaving again. “Cutter, I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh,” he said, supporting her head and back as her coughing eased. “Save your strength.”

He helped her lie back down, then checked the dressing on her stomach. It was stained with blood. He set it back across her, then pulled a few vials and a medkit out of his pack. The task completed, he moved back towards her head and spoke quietly, but matter-of-factly.

“You were badly injured. I’m going to try bacta first, but if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to try a more drastic route.”

Bacta? Drastic? Fennec thought, too listless to vocalize her questions. 

“I’m going to give you a sedative, it should help with the pain.”

Fennec nodded. The adrenaline had totally left her. She was disoriented, and confused and all she wanted to do was sleep. She felt a slight prick in her arm, then drifted off into blissful nothing.

***

She was a fighter, that was for sure. 

Boba hadn’t expected Fennec to remain unconscious for her entire stay with him, but he’d been more than a little surprised to return home and find her half-sitting on the table, her eyes wild with panic, and full of the same confused recognition they’d held when he first found her.

As Boba carefully administered bacta it clicked. Fennec Shand was certainly old enough to remember the Clone Wars. She’d probably known a clone that went by the name of Cutter. Perhaps he was stationed wherever she’d lived. More likely, they’d fought alongside one another, if she called him by name and felt some inexplicable guilt associated with him.

He’d told her he would try and heal her with the bacta first, before moving on to something else. Boba felt guilty for the lie, but hadn’t been sure what else to say. He knew perfectly well that bacta wouldn’t work, not well enough to save her life at any rate. But it should stop the pain and bleeding long enough for Boba to get the information he needed. After that, who knew? 

There were few medcenters on Tatooine, and he doubted any of them were up to the task of giving her the cybernetic replacements she likely needed. A childhood spent on Kamino had given Boba an unusual education, but also one that had prepared him to survive for so long on his own. He knew his way around machines, and also how to manufacture replacement parts for severely injured humans. He’d had little cause to use the skill in years, but he was positive he was better prepared than any medical professional on this dust ball. 

His task done, he set about preparing his evening meal, making a little extra broth in case Fennec happened to wake up. He ate leaning against the wall, as his table was otherwise occupied, and he further contemplated his dilemma. 

Even if he could save her, should he? Once he got the information he required, he would need to act on it quickly. Even now, the trail grew cold while he waited for Fennec to wake, so it was imperative that he act as quickly as possible once he actually had something to act on.

Yes. It was decided. As soon as he heard everything she had to tell him, he would leave immediately, dropping her at the closest medcenter on his way. Considering her alternative was to die alone on a hillside, he thought this course of action was more than fair. 

The suns had long since set. Boba had cleaned up the mess of bloody rags strewn around the floor, and was working on a small repair that had been left with him earlier that week when he heard Fennec shifting around. He looked up as she groaned and tried to sit up. He sat frozen in his seat, curious to see what she would do if left to her own devices. After struggling for a few moments, she managed to sit up fully, if not entirely straight. She looked around then spotted him at his workbench. Their eyes met.

“Water?” she croaked. Boba pointed at the small canteen he’d left on the chair next to the table. She picked it up carefully.

“Sip it,” Boba cautioned.

In a surprisingly sarcastic move for someone on the verge of death, she rolled her eyes.

“Not my first major injury,” she said, sipping carefully. “I know what to do.”

She closed the cap on the canteen and set it back down, then inspected the bandage around her midsection.

“The bacta worked, then?” She sounded surprised.

“Not quite,” Boba said. “But it’ll do for now.”

He stood up and retrieved the cup of broth he’d set aside for her. He tried to hand it to her, but she eyed it - and him - suspiciously.

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have bothered with the bacta,” he pointed out. 

She seemed to realize the logic of this, and took the cup from him, sipping its contents as carefully as she had the water. Boba returned to his bench and waited.

“Why?” she asked, finally. She set the now-empty cup down. Some colour had crept into her cheeks, and her eyes no longer looked at him in confusion or wild panic.

“It’s a disgrace to the profession of bounty hunters, leaving your quarry to die slowly like that.”

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“Was. In another life.”

“And now you…ride around the Dune Sea rescuing people who’ve been left for dead?” she asked, bemused.

“No,” Boba said flatly. “I was tracking a Mandalorian.” 

***

Fennec didn’t know what she expected to hear, but that wasn’t it. For someone new in town, this Mandalorian sure was a popular guy.

“Trying to restore your reputation?” she asked. “That’s one way to do it, taking down a Mandalorian. It’s what that idiot was trying to do. The kid. You may want to take it up with him.”

“Calican,” the man muttered, shaking his head. “Calican’s dead.”

Another surprise.

“What?”

“Yep. I overheard when I went into Mos Eisley for the bacta. Which means you’re my only lead in tracking down that so-called Mandalorian.”

“So-called?”, Fennec asked. Not that she had a ton of experience with them, but the man had seemed pretty Mandalorian to her.

“He’s got my armour, I’m certain of it. My father’s armour.”

So this man was a Mandalorian too? Fennec had assumed he was just a clone trooper who’d escaped the Empire. Because while she was lucid enough now to see he wasn’t Cutter, the resemblance was uncanny. They even sounded alike. 

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Around here, I go by a different name. But my father named me Boba. Boba Fett.”

Boba Fett? Fennec knew that name. She doubted that anyone who operated on the fringe of legitimate society hadn’t heard the name. But Boba Fett was dead, he’d been killed years ago here on Tatooine. 

“Let’s say for the sake of argument I believe you,” Fennec said. “What do you want with me?”

“You’re the last living person to see the Mandalorian. I want to know where he went. I need my armour back.”

“I don’t know where he went,” Fennec said before she could think better of it.

“I see.”

He didn’t sound impressed. Did he think she was lying?

“I know he was based out of Mos Eisley,” Fennec added quickly. “That’s where he found Calican. But I don’t know where he came from before that.”

“Anything else?”

“No,” Fennec said, worried she’d just signed her own death certificate. The pain in her abdomen, which had ebbed considerably, was starting to resurface. She doubled over slightly clutching at it.

“Right,” Boba Fett said, standing up and putting on his black shroud. 

“Where are you going? You’re going to leave me here like this?”

“The trail is growing colder by the minute,” he said simply. 

Of course. He might not actually be Boba Fett, but this man was a bounty hunter through and through.

“I don’t have the time to create cybernetic replacements for you,” he added, gesturing at her dressing, which was starting to leak.

“So you’re leaving me to die?” She scoffed. “You’re no better than Calican.”

“I’ll drop you at a medcenter in town on my way to the cantina.”

“The cantina?” she asked incredulously. What trail was growing colder, she wondered? The trail to the cheapest ale Tatooine had to offer?

“Have to start tracking somewhere,” he shrugged. “Lot of travellers pass through the cantina, someone there might know something.”

“Wait!” Fennec said, desperate. If he took her into the medcenter, she’d never come back out. The effects of the bacta were rapidly fading, and she could feel what a terrible state her body was in. “Can’t you do something?”

“Like what?”

“You said ‘cybernetics’, right? That you didn’t have time? Does that mean you know how?”

“I do,” he said, hovering near the door. “I grew up in a laboratory of sorts.”

“Then do it!” Fennec snapped. “Do whatever you need to.”

He looked as though he were about to refuse, then drag her off to the medcenter whether she liked it or not. He actually moved towards her before she threw up a hand to stop him.

“Wait,” she said again. “Save my life, and I’ll help you. Save my life…and I’ll be in your service.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he carefully continued her task and removed the protective padding, she finally risked a peek down at her abdomen, and what she saw made her grateful she had a solid table to lean on.
> 
> Where she’d once had defined muscles honed over a lifetime of physical activity, she now had a piece of highly sophisticated machinery. It looked more like a service panel on a transport than any cybernetic replacement she’d ever seen on a human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all so much for the continued love you show this story, it really motivates me to keep going!
> 
> Second, I upped the chapter count! It would have been way too rushed if I tried to stick to the original 5 (can you believe I actually thought this would be a one-shot?)

It was a good idea, in theory. 

If Boba replaced Fennec’s damaged organs with cybernetic enhancements, then he wouldn’t have to hunt down the Mandalorian alone.

Only now Boba was unable to leave until his patient had healed.

The procedure itself had been fairly straightforward, if a little different than what he was used to. The last time he’d replaced a human organ with a cybernetic part, he’d been in a sterile laboratory on Kamino. Every instrument he could ever want was on hand and he had his instructors gently guiding him. This time he had to proceed far more cautiously. Though he did his best to make sure his home was clean - immaculate was simply impossible on windy, dusty Tatooine - there was always the chance the field could be contaminated. It had also been nearly 30 years since he’d put any of these skills into practice, and he didn’t have Kolo Au, one of the senior medics on Kamino, walking him through it this time. 

As much as Boba hated to admit it, the stakes were also much higher this time around. Even though they all shared a face with his father, it had been easy not to get attached to the clones. If one took a turn for the worse, there were dozens more waiting to take their place. He’d always been careful when treating them in the facility, but he’d never had  _ personal _ stakes in his success before. If anything happened to Fennec Shand, he would be without an ally, trying to locate a mystery man in his father’s armour on an ice-cold trail. It would be worse than being back at square one. The failure would lie entirely at his feet.

_ Plus, she trusted me _ , he thought. She showed no hesitation as Boba administered a stronger sedative than he’d given her before. She’d merely nodded at him in acknowledgement before slipping into unconsciousness once more. 

It was that show of trust that would make it so much worse if he failed.

***

It was a good idea, in theory.

If Fennec’s organs were simply replaced with cybernetic enhancements by someone who knew what they were doing, then she wouldn’t be left at the mercy of a backwater Tatooine medcentre.

Only now Fennec was unable to move until she had healed. 

When she woke up, she was no longer lying on the table at the centre of the room, but rather on the cot in the back alcove. From what she could see through the little window, the suns still shone as brightly as it had when Boba had begun the procedure. It was the next morning then, at the very least. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it was even longer than that. The drug Boba gave her was strong. So strong she could  _ smell _ it wafting off her skin, mingling with her sweat. She would need a shower, and soon. But first she wanted to try sitting up. 

She placed weight on her forearms and tried dragging herself upwards. She’d expected pain in her abdomen, the way one would expect after a surgery, but instead she felt nothing. She was completely numb from the chest down. She slowly shifted into a sitting position, peeled back the thin blanket covering her, and peered at her midsection. 

Her torso was wrapped neatly in clean bandages from just below her chest band to just above her hips. Dots of blood surrounded what looked like a long thin pillow nestled between the bandages and the injury site. She supposed it was cushioning her abdomen from damage while it healed.

She peered around the small space, and though she couldn’t see anyone, she called out anyway.

“Fett?” she called out. She waited a moment, but heard no sound. Unlike last time, he hadn’t left her a canteen of water, and she desperately needed some. She spotted the one she’d used before on the table, however, and decided that now was as good a time as any to try and stand. 

Carefully setting her feet on the floor and bracing herself on the wall, Fennec stood. A wave of dizziness nearly took her, and she threw out her other hand against the wall to stop herself from falling outright. Who knew what that would do to her in this state?

Once her head stopped spinning, with one hand on the wall at all times to guide her, Fennec carefully made her way to the table. The effort exhausted her. Once she had the canteen in hand, Fennec sat down in the closest chair, her arm propped on the table and supporting her head. She sipped at the water, swishing the sticky, medical aftertaste out of her mouth. 

Perhaps it had been too soon to stand after all. The effort it took to just cross the room had taken so much out of her. Her eyelids felt heavy. Fennec had just enough awareness to set her canteen back on the table before sleep took her.

***

There were few in Mos Eisley that Boba Fett trusted, but he counted the Weequay family that ran the small machine parts shop he frequented among them. They were friendly, knowledgeable and most importantly, they were discrete. They had not asked any questions, for instance when he’d shown up at their shop, his gloved hands smelling strongly of disinfectant, with a list of parts he needed for cybernetic implants. They had merely packaged everything up tightly to stop sand from getting into the machinery.

Their discretion was also why Boba felt confident enough to ask them for help in tracking the mysterious Mandalorian. He did not explain why he sought him, merely that it was a matter of family honour, a concept they understood easily enough. They promised to send word if they heard anything. 

Boba hurried home, the heat of the day climbing as he rode his speeder bike out past the town limits. He shook the dust out of his cloak before removing it, then hurried inside, grateful for some shelter from the suns at last.

Fennec Shand was not where he’d left her. She’d somehow dragged herself across the room to the table and fallen asleep with her head in her hands. But why? To test her physical limits, or just to be obstinate? Then he spotted the open water canteen sitting nearby, and cursed quietly.

“Krif, I forgot to move it closer.”

He hadn’t thought to make things easier for her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to think of someone else’s needs, much less someone who was injured. He thought about letting her sleep at the table, then realized the awkward positioning of her body would put unnecessary strain on her scabs. He set down his cloak and the packet in his arms, then gently scooped her out of her seat. Fennec groaned, but did not wake. She shifted slightly in his arms, settling her head on his shoulders. Boba froze. When Fennec didn’t stir, he slowly crossed to the cot and set her down.

He found himself checking on her more than he would have expected as the day wore on. In between each task he’d return to her side, lift the blanket slightly and check her bandages, and administer bacta injections. He wouldn’t remove the bandages until tomorrow, but he was pleased to see that she wasn’t bleeding anymore. It was a good sign, a sign that the temporary cybernetics he’d installed were working seamlessly with the rest of her body. The hard part was over then.

He’d spent the day creating replacement parts for most of what he used on her, and he’d switch them out as soon as she was lucid enough to hold still. They sat waiting in a small sealed basin filled with a disinfecting fluid, which was the very least Boba could manage in the circumstances. He’d also prepared more of the broth he’d made for her earlier, and drank some of it now while he watched her for the slightest indication that she might be waking up. He no longer had anything to keep his hands busy and was starting to get restless.

He had spent years alone on Tatooine without the slightest clue where his armour might be, and though he’d searched for it, he hadn’t felt the same restlessness he felt in this moment. He wanted nothing more than to be out in the desert searching every corner of the planet until it was back in his possession. 

So why did he wait?

Was it just because he’d promised her he would? Was it because he knew the search would be easier with two?

_ You know why _ , said a small voice at the back of his mind. He tried to ignore it, but the idea kept pushing itself to the forefront.

The simple truth of it was that before his life had taken a turn, Fennec Shand was exactly the kind of woman Boba would have found fascinating. 

And for the last 3 days he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head.

***

Fennec woke up suddenly, and was immediately confused as to how she’d ended up back in bed. The suns had set, and the room was mostly dark, except for a small lamp set on the table. A huddled figure dressed in black now occupied the chair she had vacated, their head resting on the crook of their arms. Even breathing suggested they were asleep. It was likely Boba Fett, but she didn’t want to risk anything in her weakened condition. Fennec sat up with greater ease this time and slipped out of bed, her stiff muscles slowing her movement. She picked up one of her knives from where it had been left on the table. Holding it firmly in her right hand, she whispered loudly.

“Fett?”

No response. She prodded the figure's shoulder.

“Fett?”

The figure stood suddenly and a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She brought her knife hand swinging forward and placed it against the person’s throat. She relaxed at once and set the knife down when the dim light of the lamp revealed that it was, in fact Boba Fett. His eyes darted to her recently abandoned weapon.

“Were you planning on slitting my throat, Shand?” he asked, still holding on to her wrist.

“I needed to be prepared,” she shrugged, “in case someone already had.”

She wrenched her arm free, then swayed slightly, and grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.

Boba stood at the small cooking unit and returned with a bowl of the same broth he’d given her on her first day here. Fennec peered into the bowl and wrinkled her nose slightly.

“Again?”

“I can’t have you fainting on me. You need to regain your strength.”

Fennec knew he was right. The broth wasn’t  _ bad _ exactly, it just didn’t taste like much of anything. But she’d seen enough empty packets of nutrient powder to know she ought to drink it.She grabbed the bowl out of his hands and sat directly on the table, while he abandoned his chair and chose to lean against the far wall again, arms crossed. 

“What are you staring at?” she asked. Boba hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she’d sat down and she found it unnerving.

“Your bandages,” he said after a pause. “Making sure you aren’t bleeding.”

“Oh,” Fennec said, chastising herself for not trusting him. When Cutter used to stare like that…well, it was something else he was looking at. She flushed slightly at the memory.

“How does it feel, by the way?” Boba asked, giving no indication that he saw her pink cheeks. “Any pain?”

“No, actually. I expected some but…it just feels like a whole lot of nothing there.”

“The cybernetics are enhancements, they work together with the rest of your body,” he explained. “Your nerve endings around the affected area will be the same as before, but you won’t feel anything at all in your abdomen.”

“Are you sure?” Fennec asked. “It all feels numb, everything under the bandage.” 

She set the cup down and shifted slightly, newly aware of the discomfort that nothingness could bring.

Boba brought over a small basin, and as he set it down Fennec could hear something sloshing around inside. Surely he wasn’t planning on forcing her to drink an entire tub of broth? But a quick look revealed that the basin actually contained what looked like machine parts swimming in a clear liquid. 

“What is  _ that _ ? More cybernetics?”

“The parts I installed for you were placeholders. These are better. More durable. I need to swap them out one by one. It won’t hurt, but it’s time consuming.”

“Oh. Now?”

“If you like. Removing the bandage might also ease circulation, make you feel less numb.”

He’d said the magic words. Fennec slid off the table, found the loose edge of the bandage and began unwinding it. She stopped once she reached her scabs and let Boba take over. As he carefully continued her task and removed the protective padding, she finally risked a peek down at her abdomen, and what she saw made her grateful she had a solid table to lean on.

Where she’d once had defined muscles honed over a lifetime of physical activity, she now had a piece of highly sophisticated machinery. It looked more like a service panel on a transport than any cybernetic replacement she’d ever seen on a human. The entire area was ringed with scabs and fresh bruises. She was so lost in the sight of her new body, it took her a moment to realize Boba had finished unwinding the bandage and was speaking to her. 

“Huh?”

“Hop up,” Boba said again, motioning at the table. Fennec lay down on the table and looked at Boba expectantly. 

“There’s sedative if you need it.”

“I’m fine without,” Fennec said firmly. She’d spent enough time asleep and now her body felt like a strangers. She would be awake for this next part. 

The process took hours. Boba carefully removed each part and replaced it before moving onto the next. He was slow and methodical, but perhaps most surprising for a man of his reputation was how gentle his touch was. 

_ Cutter was gentle too _ .

She didn’t know if the sudden thought was the result of the heavy medication that was still in her system or just Boba’s basic proximity. How long had it been since she was this physically, this  _ intimately _ close to a man? Fennec was suddenly keenly aware that she was sitting on his table in nothing but her leggings and chest band.

Desperate to get her mind off this new, alarming thought track, she shifted her gaze away from Boba’s hands and onto the small window. The sky outside was lightening.

“There,” Boba said quietly. “That should do it.”

“Thanks,” Fennec said, just as quietly.

“Do you still feel the numbness?”

“It’s hard to say.”

As she’d sat there, the feeling had gradually started returning to her torso. Still, she didn’t know if the absence of feeling had more to do with the loss of half her midsection, or with damaged nerves. She shifted around a little, trying to provoke a feeling in whatever was left of her abdomen.

“I won’t be much use to you if I go out in the field with damaged pain receptors. I may not feel it if someone shoots me.”

Boba nodded, considering her point. 

“Let’s test it,” he said finally. Fennec nodded in agreement and scooted closer to the edge of the table.

He quickly ran a finger along the bottom of her cybernetic casing.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He ran the same finger along the top of the case, and she watched his face as he worked. That handsome, scarred, familiar face.

“How about that?”

“Mmhmm”

He brought his gaze up and their eyes met. There was a strange look in his eye, a fire and a softness that hadn’t been there before. He moved closer to her, placed one hand on either side of her waist and ran his thumbs along the sides of the casing. His gaze never once broke from hers.

“And this?” he asked in a low voice. “You feel this?”

“ _ Yes,” _ Fennec whispered. She was barely breathing. He was so close.

Their eyes were still locked together. Fennec leaned forward almost imperceptibly. Whether he had done the same, she would never know. A banging on the door brought both of them springing apart, and crashing back to reality.

“Mr. Boba! We’ve found your Mandalorian!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, come on Fennec, you know your nerve endings work just fine


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where are we going?”
> 
> “Mos Pelgo.”
> 
> That did it. She broke the hypnotic stare they had been locked in, and turned to Reesa instead.
> 
> “Mos Pelgo? That’s two days ride from here, at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! A few things:
> 
> This is where the story starts to lean into it's M rating, so mind the tags. I'll be updating them as I go so that they're as accurate as possible (and also so I don't overpromise and underdeliver)
> 
> Also, if you've been here from the beginning, you may have noticed the chapter count went from 5 to 9 to 15. I didn't think I would love writing these characters as much as I do, but also the season finale of The Mandalorian has given me so much to work with, I didn't want to rush anything.

“Who is that?” Fennec said, leaping off the table and snatching up her blaster and a knife with surprising speed considering her injuries. 

“It’s no one, the child of some local merchants,” Boba said, motioning for her to stand down. “I’ll be right up!” he called out to the Weequay child who waited outside.

“I thought you said no one here used your real name,” Fennec said, a challenge in her eyes.

“This is different,” he shrugged. “They know me from before.”

“And they kept your secret?”

“They’re discrete. Why do you think I asked them to keep an eye out?”

Fennec nodded slowly.

“Are we heading out right away?” she asked, all business now. Any heat that had sprung up between them only moments before had dissipated entirely.

“We’ll need supplies first, I’ll have to head into Mos Eisley.”

“I’ll get dressed. I’m going too.”

“In your condition?”

“I doubt my condition’s going to change with another hour’s rest. Besides, I have business of my own.”

With that, she began collecting her belongings, which had slowly spread around the little living space, and Boba headed outside to speak to his surprise guest.

Looking back, Boba Fett realized that upon hearing the knock at his door he shouldn’t have let go of Fennec quite so suddenly. He should have done what he’d been wanting to do for days, when he found her asleep at the table, having only reached it by sheer force of will, when she’d challenged him to perform a complex procedure on him because she trusted him more than the medical droids at the medcentre. He should have held onto her tighter, pulled her close, taken her mouth with his, let her wrap her legs around him and-

“Mr. Boba!”

The Weequay child, a girl named Reesa, was waving to get his attention, one hand firmly holding the lead of a bantha who was pulling a sled laden with parcels waiting to be taken to their new owners. 

“Yes, what is it?”

“Someone came into town today. Said there’s a Mandalorian man up in Mos Pelgo. Said he calls himself the marshal of the town.”

Unbelievable. This man wore armour that was not his to wear, took up with no-account bounty hunters like Toro Calican, and now travelled to the far reaches of Tatooine and presumed to place himself in charge. He couldn’t make sense of it. 

A shuffling behind him, and Reesa’s alarmed facial expression told him that Fennec had emerged. She squinted in the light of the early morning as she walked over carefully. She carried a small bundle in her arms. 

“I’m walking into town,” she announced. 

“It’s at least 3 klicks, and the suns are rising.”

“I need to move around,” Fennec shrugged. “Besides, now that we know everything is in working order…”

She let the sentence hang. Boba met her eyes. In them, he saw her steely resolve, but also something else. A question? A rebuke? A challenge?

“We’ll need to get a second speeder bike,” Boba said, still not tearing his gaze away from hers. 

“Where are we going?”

“Mos Pelgo.”

That did it. She broke the hypnotic stare they had been locked in, and turned to Reesa instead.

“ _ Mos Pelgo _ ? That’s two days ride from here, at least.”

“Which is why we need the speeder bike.” He gestured at the one currently parked nearby. “That one won’t last with two of us on it for that long.”

Boba also felt that he would not last long with the two of them in such close proximity for so long. But Fennec nodded at his reasoning.

“Where do I find you, boss?”

“Docking Bay 18. Got someone there that owes me.”

“A favour or a speeder bike?” 

“Same thing,” Boba said, not managing to keep the edge out of his voice. He’d done one too many jobs on credit out of desperation for the worthless mechanic that operated Docking Bay 18. Today, it was time to collect what he was owed.

Fennec set out on the road to Mos Eisley, her every step becoming quicker and easier as her muscles warmed up. Boba watched her walk away, keeping his eyes on her until she’d rounded a bend and disappeared behind some rocks. Once Reesa had departed as well, a shiny coin in her hand for her trouble, Boba returned to his home to pack for the journey. It was a stroke of luck that he’d been able to resume his quest so quickly. He was not going to let the trail grow cold a second time. 

***

Fennec was grateful she’d thought to wear her money belt on her person that day she’d led Toro Calican and his Mandalorian friend on a chase through the Dune Sea. She’d needed it to retrieve - or rather, buy back - her belongings from the inn where she’d been staying. The innkeeper had tried to extort more than the items were worth from her, of course.

Fortunately, most beings could be persuaded to agree to just about any terms when staring down the barrel of a blaster.

She also made a point of buying some fresh supplies of her own, not expecting her new boss to provide her with equipment, weapons or clothing. Of particular interest to her was a bolt of leather she’d purchased at a tanner. Years of surviving on her own had given her a wide variety of skills, and she looked forward to fashioning some kind of permanent brace for herself. She couldn’t keep relying on bandages and padding, especially not on the road.

Her purchases made, she inspected the money she had leftover and was pleased to find she had just enough left for the one thing she wanted most of all: an hour at a bathhouse on the nicer side of Mos Eisley. 

The hour was heavenly. She didn’t risk using a shower, not wanting to damage the cybernetic enhancements until she had an adequate way to protect them. But she was able to scrub off days of sweat and sand, and wash her long black hair before arranging it into a single glossy braid down her shoulder. All too soon, her time was up, and she made her way back into the heat of the day, every inch of her body feeling much better than it had when she’d gone in. 

Pack slung over her shoulder and helmet under her arm, Fennec wandered towards Docking Bay 18, scanning the crowd for a black shrouded figure. Though he wasn’t there when she’d arrived at the appointed spot, a terrified looking mechanic directed her out the back door, before turning back to the droid he was trying to repair. A droid whose head had been knocked clean off by a blunt object by the looks of things. 

Boba was waiting out by the bikes, his gear already loaded on his own. He nodded a greeting then mounted, turning slightly to watch as she loaded her pack, donned her helmet, then mounted the second bike. He hardly waited for her to settle into her seat before he took off along the sand. Cursing, Fennec kicked her own bike to life and followed him as fast as she could.

They hardly paused for breaks. Every few hours or so, Boba would stop abruptly, and wait for Fennec to catch up. The first time this had happened, she shot right past him and she’d had to double back. At each break, they would share one of their carefully portioned out canteens of water and one ration pack, Fennec would check that her bandage was still firmly in place, and they would ride out again. 

Hours later, once the suns had begun to set, Fennec was exhausted. She was still drowsy from her treatment, and her bandage was starting to chafe. She needed to stop, and she needed to do it soon. Boba gave no indication that he planned to stop for a break, much less find a place to settle for the night. She’d been riding a bit behind him, as she was less familiar with navigating in the desert,, so she raised her voice and called out.

“Fett!”

No response. She’d be surprised if he could hear anything over the loud hum of the engines. She accelerated and overtook him within moments. When she had a good lead on him, she hit her brakes abruptly. As she’d done earlier that day, Boba shot right past her before realizing he’d left her behind. He reduced his speed, turned around and brought his bike to a stop alongside hers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked gruffly. “Our last stop was only two hours ago.”

“We need to think about stopping for the night,” she said.

“No, we still have a little daylight left, we can-”

“We can very easily get lost in the dark and sleep in a nest of womp rats.”

Boba sighed, annoyed. 

“Look, I need to change my bandage. I need to rest. So do you. You think you can fight this Mandalorian pretender dead on your feet?”

“You’d be surprised,” Boba muttered. Fennec couldn’t imagine what he meant.

“There’s a small cluster of rocks over there. It’s got shelter from the wind. That’s where I’ll be if you need me.”

“Who exactly is in whose service, I wonder?” Boba said, sarcastically.

“I wasn’t aware Mandalorians were in the habit of working their vassals to death,” she said, matching his tone. “If I’d known, I would have taken my chances in the medcentre.”

With a smirk she powered her bike back up and headed for the rocks, pleased to hear that he was right behind her. 

Once they’d arrived and unloaded, Fennec removed her helmet, slipped off her jacket, rolled up her shirt and began the process of changing her bandages. The cluster formed a nearly perfect circle of rocks, obscuring them from view so thoroughly that she and Boba agreed they could risk a small campfire. He’d finally coaxed the dry kindling into a warm blaze when she sat next to him, and ate the offered ration pack. He volunteered to take first watch since, as he put it, she had “practically begged him” to let her sleep. Though she resented the tone, she did appreciate the offer. Setting her jacket over her shoulders, she lay her head against the rocks and was asleep in seconds.

***

Boba hardly slept that night. It’s not that he was uncomfortable, he’d certainly been in rougher conditions than this. The soft sand beneath him and the rocks at his back were downright luxurious in comparison to some of the places he’d spent the night.

No, Boba couldn’t sleep because at some point during his watch rotation, Fennec had shifted in her sleep and was now huddled into his side resting her head on his shoulder. He had originally intended not to move, and to simply let her roll the other way before reclaiming the arm that was now caught between them. But it had been a good quarter of an hour, and Fennec’s steady breathing gave little indication that she was uncomfortable enough to change position. Feeling his hand begin to go numb, he slowly wiggled it free. Unsure of where to set his arm once he’d liberated it, Boba settled for gently laying it across Fennec’s shoulders. If she was going to use him as a pillow, he figured he could use her as an armrest. That, he would later realize, was the first mistake.

The sound of her breath steadily rising and falling was hypnotic. Once it was clear they were completely alone in the desert, Boba found his gaze drifting down towards Fennec, watching as her chest rose and fell slowly, catching the occasional wafts of whatever she’d cleaned her hair with whenever a light breeze blew. His second mistake. And probably the third as well. 

But the final mistake he made that night came when Fennec stirred a little in her sleep at last, possibly aware with her keen mercenary senses that someone was watching her. She tilted her head up and stared at Boba, her half-closed eyes struggling to focus in the dim light of the dying fire. She smiled at him, raised a hand and stroked his face.

Boba should have stopped her. But he didn’t dare. It had been so long since he’d been touched like this, tenderly, by someone he felt an attraction for.

Fenenc sat up a little straighter, let her eyes flutter shut, leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth.

A fire awoke in Boba then. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her over so that she was straddling his lap.

_ This is wrong, _ he thought, as he brought his mouth to hers again, coaxing her lips open and deepening the kiss.

_ This is wrong, _ he thought as he pulled her closer, one hand in the middle of her back, the other at the base of her spine.

_ This is wrong, _ he thought, as he felt himself growing harder by the second.

Fennec responded immediately to the change in his situation. She moved her hips, grinding down on him, seeking her release. She moaned into his mouth and her head tilted back, exposing her neck to Boba as she continued to rub against him. 

_ Wrongness be damned.  _ He seized the opportunity and brought his lips there instead, kissing from the base of her throat and all the way up to her jaw.

She wrapped one arm around his shoulders, and rested her other hand at the back of his head, drawing him closer still. Her eyes were still closed, her voice tinged with sleep. As he kissed her neck, he began to match her movements with his own hips. She was close, he could feel it in the way her breathing had changed, become quicker. When she reached her climax, she stopped her movements, though Boba could feel her body's response through their leggings. He continued to move, providing the friction she needed to bring her down from her peak. Her breathing resumed it’s normal tempo, and Boba stilled. 

Satisfied, Fennec sighed, rested her head against his chest and breathed a single word. A word that made Boba take his hands off her at once, cursing his own stupidity.

“ _ Cutter.” _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't yell at me, my friends already did
> 
> Thank you all so much for your amazing response to this story and this ship. The USS Bonnec has well and truly set sail


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba kept his distance, as he had the day before, but it seemed different now. He’d hardly said a word as they packed up and set off. This wasn’t strange in and of itself, as he wasn’t especially talkative. What was strange was that he couldn’t seem to meet Fennec’s eyes whenever they paused for a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got yelled at a whole bunch for the last chapter. Just...a whole bunch.
> 
> I love how much you all love Boba and just want him to be happy! I do too, you just have to trust me!

Fennec opened her eyes, then closed them again immediately against the unexpected brightness of the dawn.

_ Did I sleep all night? _ , she wondered as she opened her eyes again, carefully this time.  _ I must have. _

She looked around their small camp. The fire had long since gone out, the embers no longer gave off any heat. Most of their gear was where they’d left it, though Boba’s gaffi stick was missing. As, it turned out, was Boba himself. 

Fennec scrambled to her feet, snatching her blaster and rifle as she did. She couldn’t leave him to fight alone, whatever the threat. What kind of ally did that make her?

Strangely though, Fennec couldn’t hear the sounds of any skirmish. Just the sounds of the desert in the early morning, and the faint whistling of the wind as something moved through it at great speed. Fennec followed the sound out of the enclosed campsite, and found a sight she hadn’t expected to see. 

Boba stood a short distance away, a black-clad figure standing out among the dust-coloured surroundings, wielding his gaffi stick. He was engaged in a complex, incredibly fast pattern dance. The longer he was at it, the faster he seemed to go, and Fennec couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. He hadn’t donned his robes, and she could clearly make out his every move. 

She’d heard stories of the legendary Boba Fett, of course, his ruthlessness with a blaster and his determination. One thing the stories had left out was the sheer  _ power _ of the man. Every swing, jab, or kick was performed with such alarming precision, and such force, it was little wonder the wind around him whistled and shrieked in protest.

Boba finished the pattern, then set his gaffi stick in the sand. He shed his shirt, used it to wipe his face, then dropped it and picked his weapon back up to begin a new series of movements. A complex network of scars and burns ran down from his scalp all along his back and arms, some shining almost pure white in the early morning light. Fennec watched as his muscles flexed and contracted with every complex movement, and felt a familiar rush of desire spread through her body. 

She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him, to lay her hands on his scarred back, to feel the corded muscles move beneath her fingers as she explored his body, and to let him become more familiar with hers in turn. She felt a throbbing in the most intimate part of herself and took a deep shaky breath. Lost in a cloud of arousal, memories began to flood back. Memories of the very visceral dream she’d had the night before. She and Cutter had been…somewhere. She was a little fuzzy on that detail. But she’d been so overcome at seeing him again that she’d kissed him, only for him to respond in the most exhilarating way. He’d brought her to completion as he kissed her, and the dream had ended shortly after, in a sigh of satisfaction. It had felt  _ so _ real.

A little too real perhaps. 

Fennec covered her mouth in horror, contemplating the possibility that she’d been responsible for her own satisfaction last night. She’d never touched herself in her sleep before, but there was a first time for everything. Not to mention the confusion that swam in her head since she found herself in the company of a man who looked so much like the man she’d once loved. It was little wonder she wasn’t thinking straight. 

And to think Boba must have been right there the entire time.

She didn’t have too much time to dwell on her mortification however. A shadow fell across her vision and she looked up to see Boba standing directly in front of her. His shirt was now mercifully back on, damp and covered in sand. 

“You alright, Shand?”

Fennec nodded quickly, then hurried to the campsite to dress and pack up. 

They sped along through the sand dunes. Boba kept his distance, as he had the day before, but it seemed different now. He’d hardly said a word as they packed up and set off. This wasn’t strange in and of itself, as he wasn’t especially talkative. What was strange was that he couldn’t seem to meet Fennec’s eyes whenever they paused for a break. He would wordlessly hand her food or water while staring attentively at the ground, or over her shoulder. Fennec worried that her suspicions about the night before might have a degree of truth to them, but there was no good way to ask him, and no guarantee that he would answer if she did. She contemplated this strange change in behaviour as the day wore on and they approached Mos Pelgo. She was still so lost in thought as the suns began to set that she almost didn’t hear the sound of speeder bikes rushing to catch up with them. She heard the whistle of an explosive just in time to scream “FETT!” before an explosion sent her speeder bike off its axis and sent her flying into the sand.

***

If Boba wanted any chance of surviving this trip to Mos Pelgo, he would need to keep his guard up where Fennec was concerned. As it was, a single moment of weakness, of lowering his defences had ended in discomfort and embarrassment. He supposed he should be thankful Fennec hadn’t properly seen his face the night before. If he didn’t mention anything to her, she could be spared the same embarrassment he now felt. 

After he’d set her back on the sand, he managed with some difficulty to stand and move away from the campsite, concealing himself on the other side of the rocks. He thought to relieve his discomfort by taking himself in hand, but the fleeting prospect of Fennec awaking and finding him engaged in such a manner just steps from where she slept was enough to stop him. Instead he settled for moving as little as possible until his cock was no longer straining against his pants.

He knew it was time to wake Fennec for her turn at the watch, but he also knew sleep wouldn’t come to him this night. He decided to continue keeping watch - there was little sense in both of them sitting awake until the sun rose. But he dreaded returning to the site. He shouldn’t be around Fennec any more than necessary. She awoke things in him that no one else ever had. Once they returned from Mos Pelgo, he would release her of any obligation she felt, no matter the outcome with the Mandalorian. It was the honourable thing to do. And the easiest way to protect himself and his heart.

So he avoided her for most of the day. He didn’t meet her eyes if he could help it. He made sure that anytime he passed her anything, there was no danger of their fingers brushing. Boba had so thoroughly begun to block Fennec Shand from his mind, that it was a miracle he heard her cry out moments before the ground around them exploded in a cloud of sand. 

He felt his speeder bike tilt precariously. Rather than allow it to throw him or crush him, he propelled himself to the ground and rolled away from it, gaffi stick in hand. He had never been more grateful that he took the time to practice with it each morning. His pent-up feelings from last night had resulted in a particularly long training session this morning, leaving his body limbered up and ready to face this mysterious threat. 

He had lost sight of Fennec. What he could see what a half dozen speeder bikes, older models, each carrying two riders. They covered their faces against the harsh desert weather and were armed to the teeth. Boba had heard of bands like this: they called themselves raiders, pirates, marauders, but in truth they were no-account hooligans, some from Tatooine, some from elsewhere, who made a living crossing the desert and robbing unsuspecting travellers. Even the Tuskens that Boba had stayed with while he recovered from his ordeal had encountered these kinds before. 

Not that any of those particular groups lived to tell the tale. 

Half the riders dismounted and charged for Boba. He was ready. He swung his gaffi stick with precision, knocking them to the ground before putting them out of their mystery with the sharp end of the stick. One unfortunate raider had tried to sneak up behind Boba, and found his face smashed in for his troubles. 

Before his life had changed significantly, Boba had been in fights like this often. Whenever that happened, he managed to reach a state of such total calm that he operated on pure instinct, hardly aware of the decisions his brain was making before his body carried them out. There had been little occasion for him to practice this skill in the last few years, and Boba was pleased to see that the ability had not left him entirely. He fell into his old rhythm, and the feeling was intoxicating. He had forgotten in his determination to locate his armour, that he was a warrior first and foremost. 

Unfortunately, Boba was a touch out of practice. In his exhilaration at being able to fight once more he hadn’t noticed two of the raiders sneak up behind him. He was alerted to their presence by the sound of two rapid shots fired from a rifle, and the sight of their bodies falling at his feet.

Boba spun quickly, and saw Fennec standing several feet away, one eye still pressed to the scope of her still-charged rifle. 

***

Momentarily winded after being thrown from her speeder bike, Fennec’s years of training kicked in, spurred by a sudden rush of adrenaline, which she also attributed to the lack of pain in her abdomen. She shot to her feet and raced back to her fallen speeder bike. She snatched up her rifle without breaking her stride. By the time she reached the scene of the fight, the rifle was powered up and ready to fire, though she didn’t dare.

The skirmish was in such close quarters, that even though Fennec was a fantastic shot, she knew there was always a chance she could hit Boba. She watched the fight unfold through the scope. As he had been that morning, Boba was a sight to behold. There was a larger undercurrent of aggression, now that he moved with more urgent purpose. Squashing down the heat that pooled in what now passed for her abdomen, Fennec kept her eye and attention trained on the bandits that had accosted them. Two of them circled around Boba and approached from behind. She didn’t wait to see if he had seen them. She fired two quick shots, hitting both square in the back of their heads, and watched them fall. 

Boba turned to see who had mysteriously saved them, an expression of surprise adorning his face. Fennec, however kept her eye on the two speeders that still carried two riders each. They sped away quickly, having seen the fate that befell their companions. She kept the scope trained on the closer of the two and fired. The second of the two riders fell into the sand, dead. The driver didn’t look back, but sped up. Within moments they had disappeared over the horizon. 

She walked slowly towards Boba, scanning the horizon for more assailants. When none appeared, she stepped directly in front of him, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, looking to the side.

“You need a blaster,” she said, shifting her upper body to try and keep their eyes connected.

He cut an imposing - and frankly attractive - figure while wielding a gaffi stick, but Fennec just counted them lucky that the bandits hadn’t come more heavily armed. 

“I did just fine, “ Boba said, glaring in annoyance.

“Still,” Fennec said. “If you had a blaster we could have stopped them before they got away.”

Boba shook his head. Typical. He looked out in the direction they had gone.

“I wager we’ll catch up with them soon,” he said. “They’re headed in the direction of Mos Pelgo.”

Fennec followed Boba’s gaze towards the horizon. By the time she looked back, he was already gone, gathering his belongings and righting his bike. 

They reached the outskirts of Mos Pelgo just before sunset. Though perhaps “outskirts” was too loose a term. The entire town consisted of a single packed dirt road lined on either end with hastily constructed buildings. A couple of homesteads dotted the landscape beyond, but otherwise this seemed to make up the entirety of the small mining settlement. They spotted the speeders belonging to the bandits as they approached. But they bore no riders. Save for some raised voices, the town ahead was silent. There was no blasterfire or screaming. Perhaps Mos Pelgo was where the raiders called home?

Fennec and Boba parked their speeder bikes away from the others, armed themselves, and completed the trip on foot. They crept up behind one of the larger buildings in town, and listened to the voices that called out. They all seemed to be celebrating a man called Cobb Vanth, who had just saved the town from some bandits.

“They decided to try and rob the town,” Fennec muttered. “Scum. These people have nothing.”

“They have this Cobb Vanth,” Boba said thoughtfully. “I wonder what sort of man he is.”

“You think he might be the Mandalorian?”

“You tell me, you met him,” Boba said, shooting her a look.

Fennec rolled her eyes.

“I  _ barely _ spoke to him. Never got a name. Never even saw his face.”

The small crowd began to chant.

“Three cheers for Marshal Vanth!”

Boba and Fennec crept closer for a better vantage point. As soon as the marshal in question came into view, Boba inhaled sharply and froze.

Fennec looked from him to the marshal, deeply confused. This Cobb Vanth did wear some kind of Mandalorian armour, and it was clear it hadn’t been made for him. But it was nothing like the shiny beskar worn by the man Boba sought. Was he perhaps merely offended that a non-Mandalorian wore the armour at all? 

“Fett?” Fennec whispered. “Fett, what happened?”

“Let’s go,” Boba said suddenly. He didn’t look angry, just overwhelmed. “We can return in the morning, but I can’t stay here.”

Fennec followed him without the slightest idea what had him so rattled. He mounted his speeder bike, waited until she had done the same, then drove off into the Tatooine twilight.

Some twenty minutes later, he stopped in front of a series of small empty caves that they’d passed on the way in. He collected his belongings and climbed up to one of them, hardly waiting for Fennec to catch up. By the time she’d caught up, he was set up towards the back of the cave and had the beginnings of a fire going. She helped him fix up the rest of the camp. By the time the suns had fully set, he had gone to sit by the mouth of the cave to give her privacy while she replaced her bandages. Her task done, she crept up and sat next to him, looking out at the empty horizon.

“So. What was that back there? That wasn’t even the man we’re looking for.”

Boba frowned, deep lines of thought appearing on his forehead.

“That wasn’t the man you met?”

“No, that one wore grey beskar. And it was in much better condition than what we saw.”

“That man,” Boba said. “Cobb Vanth. He has my armour. My father’s armour.”

“Why didn’t we just take it then?” Fennec exclaimed. “He was surrounded by a handful of villagers at most, we could have taken them out.”

“You would kill a whole village for a set of armour?” Boba asked.

“As if you haven’t for less,” Fennec shot back, but there was no malice in her voice. Boba said nothing to that. No use denying something they both knew to be true. 

Boba sighed.

“You know what stopped me? I couldn’t remember why I’m here in the first place.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What is it I want my armour back for?” Boba shrugged. “To connect me to my father? Our shared face does that more than any object ever could. So what then? To try and reclaim my old identity? That man doesn’t exist anymore. That man was a scourge on the galaxy. At least now the armour is in the hands of a good man, just trying to do his best by his people.”

This was the most Fennec had ever heard Boba speak. Something in his tone sounded so resigned and vulnerable. She shifted to sit closer to him, and took his hand in her own.

“You’re a good man. You do your best by those around you.” 

She indicated the bandage wrapped around her abdomen. But Boba shook his head again.

“I wasn’t a good man, or an honourable one, when I wore that armour. Perhaps it’s better if I leave it with this Cobb Vanth.”

“If you like,” Fennec whispered, unwilling to push him on something that was clearly deeply personal. “But I think you’re a better man than you say.”

He turned to look at her with those dark, intense eyes boring holes into her own. She threaded her fingers with his. Their shoulders brushed together. He was so close. The feeling from this morning had returned, sending electricity humming through her veins and liquid heat pooling in her belly. She closed her eyes and leaned in, her lips gently brushing his. He kissed her back softly for a moment, before suddenly pulling away. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Shand,” he said, seriously. “Who’s Cutter?”

Fennec’s heart dropped into her stomach.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is embarrassed and no one is talking about it. Sounds like a fun road trip tbh


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love?” Boba cut in. He’d managed to stay quiet as she spoke, save for the occasional acknowledgement that he was listening. 
> 
> “I wouldn’t have called it that then,” Fennec said. “But looking back? Yeah.”
> 
> “Love. With a clone,” Boba said, shaking his head.
> 
> “That’s surprising, coming from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A couple of housekeeping notes:
> 
> I've updated the tags again. Anything more M rated isn't for this chapter, it's for the next, but I was in there anyway so I figured I'd just update.
> 
> This chapter deals heavily in flashback, but there are moments in the "present day". In every section *except the last one* italics indicate present day. 
> 
> Happy reading!

_ He shouldn’t have asked her. He should have kissed her as hard and as deeply he wanted to, before carrying her back to their campsite and making such passionate love to her that she would spend all night crying his name, forgetting that there had ever been anyone else. It shouldn’t have mattered who Cutter was. Everyone had a past.  _

_ Only it was clear hers was still haunting her. _

_ “How do you know that name?” Fennec asked, barely concealing a note of panic, and possibly mortification in her voice. _

_ He shouldn’t have told her how he knew. He could have said she talked in her sleep. But she looked so vulnerable that Boba felt his heart soften, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He was still mortified at his own actions, but whatever he felt paled in comparison to the range of emotions that played across her face as he spoke. By the time he’d finished recounting the events of the night before, Fennec had her face buried in her hands. _

_ “It’s also not the first time you’ve called me Cutter,” Boba added, belatedly trying to make things less uncomfortable. “I assume he was a clone, back during the war, perhaps one you served with? But maybe it was something more than just military service?” _

_ “Much more,” Fennec agreed, nodding. “I was in love with him. And it’s my fault he’s dead.” _

_ With that, she began to speak. _

***

Fennec’s homeworld, as with most, was not unaffected by the Clone Wars. The Separatists had hoped to use it as a staging ground to advance on the Republic. Battle droids roamed the streets, making life miserable for any who dared oppose them. Curfews, detaining people without reason, shortages of every kind. The side effects of wartime. 

Fennec knew, by the time the war started, that things wouldn’t go back to normal. Her home would never again be what it was, and though life hadn’t been easy, it got immeasurably worse under the Separatists. To her frustration, when the first wave of battle droids arrived, she was marginally too young to formally do anything about it. So she did what she could. She stole supply crates and redistributed the contents to those most in need. She learned how to fight, how to use a blaster, and most importantly, how to move around without being seen. The war hardened her in those early years.

Then the day finally came when she was old enough to enlist and fight for the Republic. No longer would she have to be satisfied with fighting back in small ways. She would be able to fight alongside the best of the best, and stop the Separatists once and for all. 

She scraped together enough to book passage to the nearest Republic system. By this point in the war, the Republic was so cash-strapped, they let non-clones enlist. Not for close combat, but for other duties, desk jobs and the like. It freed up the clones stuck doing these mundane tasks, and allowed the Republic to send them to the front. 

Not all clones went to the front, however. Some were absorbed into what the Republic called the “Civilian Training Program” as instructors. These were clones had been in the heat of battle for too long, or who had possibly sustained serious injuries and wanted to be useful while they recovered. 

Fennec thrived in basic training. The skills she’d picked up at home came in handy almost immediately. Instructors were impressed with her skills in both hand-to-hand combat as well as her proficiency with weapons. Her agility and stealth was also seen as an asset, and everyone agreed that it would be a waste to stick her behind a computer terminal.

Fennec was assigned to a specialized combat track, where cadets were trained in squads of ten. Very few cadets were considered good enough to keep up with the clones, but there was no doubt that anyone in this program was up to the task. The instructors in the specialized combat track weren’t the worn down, injured clones who taught the others. These were the best of the best, the ones who could be called back to the front at a moment’s notice. 

That was where she met Cutter.

Cutter was an older clone, one of those who’d been thrown into the heat of battle the day the Clone Wars began on Geonosis. He managed at every turn to exceed his training and conditioning, and two years later had considerable combat experience under his belt. Not wanting him to burn out, he was reassigned to command Fennec’s squad, and to put them through their paces both physically and mentally.

In this way, he more than exceeded his mandate. 

Fennec had never worked so hard in her life. For months, she would fall into her bunk at the end of a long day, exhausted beyond all belief. Her squad mates resented Cutter. Some even muttered about him secretly working for the Separatists. After all, what other reason could he have for trying to kill them all before they even reached the front. Fennec didn’t mind. The work he assigned and the physical tests he made them undergo gave her a sense of purpose, and she always thrived when she had some direction. She quickly gained a reputation with command for being the best in her squadron, even earning praise from Cutter, who was notoriously stingy with it.

Little wonder then, that when he returned a strategy report to her calling it mediocre at best, she’d taken that as a personal insult. At the end of the night, rather than heading to the commissary with her squad, she marched straight into Cutter’s small office, demanding an explanation. Their discussion had escalated into a shouting match, which then further escalated into having their way with each other on Cutter’s desk with the kind of ferocity born of pent up frustration and passion. 

Hours later, breathing hard, their limbs tangled, they had relocated from the desk to the floor. Knowing he wasn’t inclined to get up any time soon, Fennec straddled Cutter and walked him through her strategy report step by step. Though he couldn’t quite believe that this was the moment she’d chosen to set him straight, he was forced to concede the point. He then proceeded to apologize to her for the oversight in so intimate - and thorough - a manner that the memory alone still made her toes curl.

Everything changed for Fennec after that. She continued to excel at every point in her training, even more so now that she had an outlet for the passion that burned inside her like an inferno. But it was more than passion. More, even, than the desire for a physical outlet beyond her military training. Fennec had been with others before, but this was different. This was something dangerously close to love. 

***

_ “Love?” Boba cut in. He’d managed to stay quiet as she spoke, save for the occasional acknowledgement that he was listening.  _

_ “I wouldn’t have called it that then,” Fennec said. “But looking back? Yeah.” _

_ “Love. With a clone,” Boba said, shaking his head. _

_ “That’s surprising, coming from you.” _

_ Boba didn’t see why. He was a clone on a technicality. He had been raised by Jango as his son, not born and bred in a laboratory that treated him the same as the 500 others around him. He said as much to Fennec. _

_ “You all share a face, it’s true. But I think you would know better than anyone that there is a soul inside every clone that flourishes when they’re allowed to express some individuality. The face was handsome, but it was the soul I loved.” _

_ The mild pleasure Boba felt at hearing that she found his face handsome was dampened the moment she spoke of her love for another. Keen not to wallow in his own jealousy, he pressed her to continue. _

***

Not long after, the squad was sent into the field, scattered but all reporting back to Cutter. Fennec loved being in the field. Out there, she could live a life of minimal restriction comfortable in the knowledge that she was bringing about the end of the Separatists, who had made her life so miserable. She made a point of delivering her reports to Cutter in person whenever possible. The weeks of separation and the knowledge that each of their visits could be the last time they see each other gave their trysts an added layer of urgency. Not to mention the “forbidden” aspect of intimacy with her commander felt right out of a holodrama to Fennec, and she relished it, though she’d never admit it. 

For a while, things were perfect. They concocted more and more excuses to see one another, until it happened that they spent more time together in a rotation than they did alone. 

But their blissful, beautiful slice of peace changed forever on the day the war ended. Cutter had flown out to where Fennec was stationed, ostensibly to check on her, and carry out her performance evaluation. They lay together in her bunk, her head resting on his chest. He ran lazy fingers through her hair as they both stared into space, daydreaming.

“I should get back,” Cutter sighed. Fennec propped her chin up and pouted.

“You sure you don’t want to…evaluate me again?” she asked, with a wry smile.

“Oh, but you passed everything with flying colours, my darling,” he said, smirking. He leaned forward and kissed her, then stood and began to dress. Fennec lay in bed a moment longer, admiring every perfect angle of his body, appreciating the way his muscles-

***

_ “I get the picture,” Boba said cutting her off. _

_ “Right, sorry.” _

_ *** _

Once they were both dressed, Cutter stood by her door, kissing her neck while she pulled him closer. A chime on his wrist comm brought their activity to an end. They both turned to watch as a hologram of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine appeared, his face horribly changed since the last time either of them had seen him. 

“The time has come,” Palpatine sneered. “Execute Order 66.”

The change in Cutter was immediate. He stiffened, blinked once, and let go of Fennec.

“Cutter?” she said, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Where are the Jedi?” he asked Fennec almost formally, not at all the tone of voice for someone who’d had his face buried between her thighs not half an hour ago.

“What Jedi?”

“Don’t play this game with me, I am not in the mood.”

He reached for his blaster. Fennec kicked out at once, knocking it to the ground. She worried briefly that she’d misunderstood his intention, but the angry look he flashed her as he dove for his weapon told her she had it right. She kicked the blaster away, picked up the closest object, and clubbed Cutter on the back of the head.

***

_ “It’s not your fault, you know,” Boba said. “It was self defence.” _

_ “That’s not what killed him. I almost wish that’s what had killed him, I might actually be able to forgive myself.” _

_ “Order 66,” Boba said thoughtfully. “I remember that day. A lot of clones died.” _

_ “A lot of others died too. Those who got in their way.” _

_ “What did you do?” _

_ “I panicked. I was only twenty, I didn’t know what to do. I knocked him out and carried him to the nearest medical droid.” _

_ She told Boba about how the droid had located a chip embedded in Cutter’s head, one it couldn’t account for. She ordered it to remove the chip, then waited for several interminable hours to see if her love would live. _

_ “He survived?” Boba asked. _

_ “He did.” _

_ “So then what did you do?” _

_ “We ran. Imps would have killed him if they caught him, and they’d have killed me too for good measure. Took any job we could just to stay alive.” _

_ “Like what?” _

_ “Nothing above-board. Smuggling, guns-for-hire. A couple of assassinations. I’m not proud of those. Neither was Cutter. Couple of our jobs were for Black Sun, Crimson Dawn and the like. That’s how we ended up working for the Hutts.” _

_ Boba nodded in understanding. He too had done time with the criminal underworld of the galaxy. _

_ “Our last job for them, that’s when things got really bad.” _

_ *** _

They truly hadn’t minded the work they did for syndicates. Anything they could do to hit back at the Empire was fair game in their book. Emperor Palpatine had taken everything from them, and they would take back every piece they could, chipping away at the foundation of the grand farce he’d built for himself. 

The Hutts had the farthest reach, which meant anything they did for them hurt the Empire the most. Or at least that’s what Fennec and Cutter told each other at night as they lay in various questionable locations, with nothing to help them feel safe except their arms around one another. 

On their final trip together, they were approaching Tatooine, their unmarked - stolen - vessel carrying crates of spice to be delivered to Jabba the Hutt. The previous owner of the ship - as well as their crew - lay dead in a ditch on Kijimi. They’d been pursued halfway across the galaxy and had finally managed to shake their tail. 

Cutter sat in the pilot’s seat in the cockpit half-asleep, while Fennec dozed on his lap. Things had been hard for so long, but in the quiet moments with each other, they could pretend everything was back to normal. 

A blaring from the ship's computer roused them both. Fennec took one look at the screen, then left off Cutter’s lap. 

“They’ve found us,”she said. “Imps. Or the spice runners.”

“It’s fine, we’re almost there,” Cutter said. Tatooine was visible in their window and growing larger by the second. But the ship behind them was gaining on them, too. Several shots from their pursuers sent the whole ship rocking on its axis. 

“The ship won’t last much longer like this!” Fennec cried.

“What do you suggest?” Cutter snapped.

“Dump the cargo! Give them something else to chase!”

Cutter looked hesitant, then the other ship fired again, and the onboard alarm began to blare.

“Do it,” he said, nodding. 

Fennec ran to the back of the ship and threw open the door to the airlock. She watched the crates fly out into the darkness of space, but then watched with some satisfaction as their pursuers stopped to try and claim the cargo.

She walked back to the cockpit, a cold sense of dread washing over her.

“What have I done?” she asked, on the verge of tears. “What have I- Cutter, what have I done?”

She started shaking, her hand covering her mouth in horror. Cutter raced forward and took her into his arms. He stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead and told her everything would be alright.

It wouldn’t.

***

  
  


_ “What happened?” Boba asked, his voice low. _

_ “Jabba. He…uh…he asked for an explanation. We gave it. He said that he had no room for such weakness in his crew. He had Cutter killed right there in the palace.” _

_ “But you made it out alive?” _

_ “The punishment for me was far worse.” _

_ Boba had his suspicions, knowing what he knew of Jabba. Still, he waited for Fennec to speak, he wouldn’t push her.  _

_ Her composure, which had held together remarkably well, suddenly cracked. She let out a great shuddering sob.  _

_ “He made…he made me shoot him myself.”  _

_ She told him every miserable detail of that moment, the worst she’d ever experienced. Boba felt sick. Not only for her, but for how familiar the scenario sounded. He’d seen something similar unfold once, in a carbon-freezing chamber on Bespin. _

_ Fennec had started to shake. Boba reached out, gathered her into his arms, and let her sob into his chest. _

_ He lost track of how long they sat there. After a while, her breath started coming in short staccato bursts, then started to come in easier as her tears slowed down. Finally, she stopped crying all together, just as the long desert night hit its darkest point.  _

_ Boba helped her stand and walked her over to their campsite. She lay down on her bedroll, and Boba set his own up next to hers. He felt terrible, forcing her to relive the worst day of her life. He kept watch as she slowly but surely fell asleep, which she did eventually. But not before curling herself into his chest. She was as vulnerable as he’d ever seen her, and he couldn’t begrudge her the extra bit of security. _

_ *** _

_ As Fennec fell asleep that night, she dreamt of her last moments with Cutter. _

***

Cutter was on his knees in front of her, bruised and bloodied. Fennec stood across from him, in a similar physical state, restrained by Jabba’s thugs.

“It’s quite simple,” Jabba said in Huttese. “You kill him, or I kill you both.”

“Kill me, it was my fault!” Fennec cried, trying in vain to break free from the hands that held her. 

“Not this again. Very well, kill them both,” Jabba said, clearly bored.

“Wait, wait! Mighty Jabba, please!” Cutter called out. “Please. One moment, and she’ll do as you ask. Just give us one moment together.”

Jabba waved his hand for them to go ahead, his mind already wandering to something more interesting.

Fennec pulled herself free and kneeled on the filthy floor, face to face with Cutter.

“Don’t make me do this,” she whispered to him, tears streaming down her face. “Please. Please.”

“If you don’t he’ll kill you too,” Cutter whispered back, his voice thick with tears of his own. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

“Life without you.  _ That’s _ worse. I love you, I can’t, I-”

“Live for us both, my darling. Please.”

“Cutter.”

“I love you, Fennec. I love you.”

She surged forward and kissed him, her tears mingling with his. Too quickly, Fennec was hauled back to her feet and a blaster was placed in her hand. She felt the cold barrel of another blaster placed against the side of her head. His last words rang in her ears

“Do it, and learn what happens to those who incur my displeasure,” Jabba said, gleefully. 

_ I love you, Fennec. _

She raised the blaster.

_ I love you. _

She shut her eyes, her tears flowing.

_ I love you. _

“Cutter, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

_ I love you, Fennec. _

She pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, I made myself sad.
> 
> The next chapter won't be this heartbreaking. This is my promise to you. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments so far, it really motivates me to keep writing about these two. I just love them so much, and I'm glad you do too!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait. Shand. You can’t want this. You’re drunk.”
> 
> “Not that drunk,” said Fennec, offended. She leaned forward again, but he angled away from her.
> 
> “You’re sure?”
> 
> “Yes,” she whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Merry Christmas to those celebrating, happy Friday to those that aren't!
> 
> Thank you so much for your response to the last chapter. I know it was heartbreaking (I made myself sad too) but now our girl Fennec can start her healing. 
> 
> Because the last two chapters were kind of rough, today I give you the gift of some smut. Mind the tags, and be kind - I've never written smut before!

She hadn’t had nightmares about Cutter in years. But that night they were back in full force. 

No sooner would Fennec drift off to sleep, than she would be forced to relive the moment over and over in vivid detail. The sound of the blaster firing, a body hitting the floor, the feeling of being dragged roughly away to be beaten again, then thrown into the hot Tatooine sand like so much garbage. Each time, she woke up with a sharp gasp, eyes staring wildly around the cave, trying to situate herself. And each time, she was aware of a rock solid presence at her back. 

_ Boba. _

She slept facing the fire, he’d settled in right behind her, and Fennec was grateful for it. The first time she’d jerked awake, she felt him move suddenly too, as if startled. Feeling guilty for waking him, she tried to fall back asleep while moving as little as possible, willing the nightmares not to return. 

They did.

The third or fourth time she forced herself awake, she sat up, hand firmly over her mouth and willed herself not to cry. That would definitely wake Boba. A hand gently settled on her shoulder and she tensed.

“Shand,” Boba whispered. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

He gently guided her back down so she was lying on her side again.

“I’m sorry, I’m-” she broke off, a sob escaping despite her best efforts. She brought her hand up to her mouth again and began to cry quietly.

Boba shifted behind her until he was lying on his side as well, his chest pressed to her back. He threw a protective arm over her and took her free hand in his.

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s ok,” he whispered into her hair, his thumb stroking the back of her hand softly. He stayed like that, muttering reassurances to her until her eyes closed again, and did so for the rest of the night, whenever the terrors saw fit to disturb her sleep. 

***

Boba had never been so happy to see the sunrise. He hadn’t slept well, but imagined that Fennec had a far worse time of it. He opened his eyes and noticed that she was gone. She was clearly keen to put the night before behind her, because she was already up and moving about, packing up the campsite. 

“Shand,” he muttered groggily. 

She paused, but didn’t speak.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, standing up and shaking out his bedroll.

“Fine,” she said, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry about…thank you, for…” 

She gestured vaguely at where they’d slept.

“Don’t mention it,” Boba said. 

She nodded, and took him at his word. Silently they packed up the rest of their gear and left the cave. Boba was extremely relieved to see that the speeder bikes had not been picked to pieces by Jawas in the night. They loaded their gear, and began the long trek back to Mos Eisley. 

Though Boba led the way, as he had the day before, it was with far less distance between them. He felt almost a sense of responsibility for Fennec now, and he didn’t want to leave her alone.

Their pauses were few that day, but even so, the trip began to wear on them by late afternoon. Neither of them had slept properly and the prospect of driving much longer was a deeply unpleasant one.

“How are you holding up?” Boba asked at their next stop.

“Fine,” Fennec said quietly, as she did every time he asked her. 

“Shand,” Boba said. “Come on.”

“Fine, the truth? All day my eyes have felt sore and crusty from the crying, I have the kind of headache only a truly cheap bottle of spotchka can provide, and I feel as though I’ve been scraped raw.”

Boba silently passed her the canteen of water and a ration pack, then waited until she passed them back before speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “About last night. I shouldn’t have asked. If I’d known, then I wouldn’t-”

But Fennec waved him off. 

“It’s fine. I just…I haven’t thought about him this much in years. I’ve been so consumed with a desire for revenge, a need to survive…”

She chewed her lip and looked at the ground. 

“I feel like I started to forget about  _ him _ , who he was,” she whispered. “And I feel so guilty.”

She sighed and shook her head. Boba dug around in his pack, then handed Fennec two tablets and the water canteen.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“For the headache,” Boba replied. “I don’t know what to do about the rest.”

Fennec’s lip twitched into something like a smile. She took the pills then returned the canteen.

“Shall we?” she asked. “We might be able to make it back tonight if we really push.”

“I think we’d be better off finding somewhere to shelter. We’re both exhausted.”

Fennec looked around, taking in the very desolate landscape. 

“Shelter here?”

“The Tuskens I lived with. They make their home around here.”

“Tuskens, Fett? Really? Also how do you know where ‘here’ is?”

Boba gave her a try smile as he mounted his speeder bike again. 

“Trust me, Shand.”

Despite his confidence, Boba couldn’t help but feel concerned that they wouldn’t find the Tusken camp after all. Once they’d been riding for the better part of two hours, just as Boba was prepared to embrace humiliation, the faint glow of several campfires appeared on the horizon. He and Fennec, in unspoken agreement, increased the speed on their bikes and before long were met by three very suspicious sounding Tusken sentries. 

Boba hurriedly communicated with them in their sign language, telling them that he and Fennec only sought somewhere to sleep and that they would be gone by first light. After a hushed conversation amongst themselves, they indicated a small neglected fire pit on the outskirts of the camp. Boba and Fennec nodded their thanks and made the rest of the trip on foot, happy just to have somewhere to settle. 

***

Fennec sat by the fireside, long after the suns had set and stared into the dancing flames. They’d eaten the last of the ration packs, and Boba had gone to speak with the village about trading for enough food and water to see them home the next day.

_ Home _ . How funny that she’d only been with Boba a week or so, had spend even less time in the little hut outside Mos Eisley, yet she’d started to think of it as home. 

Boba returned bearing a large bundle in one hand and balancing two full cups in the other. He dropped the parcel with the rest of their belongings, then handed one of the drinks to Fennec.She sniffed at it, then felt her eyes cross.

“Fett,” she said, coughing. “Why have you handed me a cup of engine fuel?”

“It’s the Tusken answer to spotchka,” he said, sitting next to her. “Most cantinas won’t serve them so they took matters into their own hands.”

Fennec shrugged. She’d try anything once. She sipped at it, and coughed again, like an inexperienced teenager.

“An acquired taste, perhaps,” Boba said, sipping at his own. He then hastily added, on seeing her shoot him a dirty look “I coughed at first too!”

They sat there for a few moments, sipping at their drinks. It really was incredibly strong, not that Fennec minded. She was getting used to the taste, and it was hitting the exact right spot. 

“Shand, we need to talk,” Boba said after a few minutes. She turned her head towards him. “Thank you. For coming all this way with me, for helping me track down the armour. But now that we’ve found it, you don’t need to…that is don’t feel…”

“What are you saying, Fett?”

“I release you from my service,” Boba said, the formal words feeling awkward, yet somehow necessary. “It wasn’t right for me to even accept your terms. They were offered under duress.”

Fennec considered his words. 

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” she said, facing him and extending a hand. “Mr. Fett, my name is Fennec Shand, I am a mercenary in need of work. I would provide references, but those best acquainted with my skills are not in a position to speak about them.”

“What are you doing, Shand?”

“Offering you my services once more. With a clear and sound mind. I can’t tell you how much I’ve  _ missed _ having something to work towards.”

“Don’t you have goals of your own?”

Fennec glared into the fire, a dark expression crossing her face.

“I did, once. I wanted to find and kill Jabba the Hutt. I heard he was dead, but I don’t know if I believe it. It’s why I came back to Tatooine.”

“He’s dead.” Fennec looked back at him in surprise.

“How do you know?”

“I was there,” Boba shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Right,” Fennec said, nodding in grim satisfaction. “In that case, do you accept my offer?” 

Fennec extended her hand once more, shifting closer to him. Boba looked at her hand, then at her. He took her hand in his rough, calloused one and shook it firmly. 

“I accept.”

“Good.”

“As long as you know you can leave at any time.”

Fennec smiled, the first real one she’d allowed herself all day. She then downed the last of her drink.

“Well then, boss. Now that that’s settled.”

She leaned forward and kissed Boba. He responded at once, bringing one hand up to rest on the back of her head, drawing her closer. Their kiss deepened, and their tongues met swirling together in a liquor-infused burst of passion. Then Boba suddenly pulled away.

“Wait. Shand. You can’t want this. You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk,” said Fennec, offended. She leaned forward again, but he angled away from her.

“You’re sure?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” she whispered. 

She’d said the magic word. Boba cupped her face and pulled her towards him, kissing her far less gently than he had before. Breathing hard, he lay Fennec down on the ground, then positioned himself above her and began to kiss his way down her neck. She moaned softly as his lips met the sensitive spot on her throat. She needed more. She reached out for his belt, but he swatted her hand away.

“No, not here.”

“What?” Fennec said, through a cloud of arousal. 

“We have to be quiet. Don’t want to scare our hosts.” Boba smirked, continuing to kiss his way down her body. He pushed her jacket off. As he kissed along her shoulders, his thumbs lightly brushed her nipples through her shirt, making them pebble instantly. The stimulation was both too much and not enough. Fennec moaned, grinding herself against his leg, which was positioned between hers, just barely reaching the apex of her thighs.

“Please,” she moaned, his kisses driving her to distraction. “I can be quiet.”

“Oh Shand,” he said, laughing quietly in between the kisses he planted on her. “When I finally have my way with you, I’ll make sure you’re anything  _ but _ quiet. I want you screaming my name over and over, so loud that all of Mos Eisley knows exactly who it is who knows how to make you come.”

Fennec felt a throbbing at her centre and knew her leggings were growing damp. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head closer

“Besides,” Boba said, kissing along her jawline. “Half the fun is in the anticipation.”

At that, he took one hand away from her breasts and set it at the juncture of her thighs. Two fingers lightly brushed back and forth over where she craved his touch the most. 

“You’re a bad man, boss,” she panted. At that, she felt his cock, which was resting against her hip, grow even harder. She needed to take control of the situation, or else she might cry of frustration.

“Oh,” she whispered coyly. “So you like it when I call you ‘boss’?”

“Shand,” he said warningly.

“How about when I do this,” she asked, palming his cock. “You like that, boss?”

He didn’t answer, but she knew by looking at him that he liked it very much. She applied a bit of pressure to his shoulder, forcing them to change position so that she straddled him. She unclasped his belt, released his cock from his pants and took it in her fist.

“Let me take care of you,” she said quietly, taking his mouth with hers. “Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel that night.”

Boba tried to sit up, but lay back down at the first lazy pump of Fennec’s hand. He groaned as she pumped her fist again, and again.

“That’s right, boss,” she whispered in his ear. “You got me off, it seems only fair I should do the same for you.”

“Fennec,” he groaned. His breathing was coming in hard now. It wouldn’t be long now.

With a shuddering gasp, he came apart in her hand, spilling on his abdomen, and sullying his shirt. Fennec let go and shifted so she was sitting beside him instead of on top. When his breathing had returned to normal, he tucked himself back into his pants and sat up as well. He removed his shirt and threw it on the fire.

“I have another,” he said, at her shocked expression. “I don’t think I can salvage that one.”

“It’s ok,” she said, admiring his bare torso. “The view is better this way anyway.”

And with that, Boba pulled her in for another kiss.

***

Dawn came too quickly. After Fennec had “evened the score” as she put it, they’d fallen asleep in each other's arms. Before they had, Boba had kissed Fennec gently and promised to make it up to her when they got back to the hut. But now, in the light of day, with the liquor gone from his system, he wasn’t so sure. 

Despite her assertions to the contrary, they’d both been drinking the night before, and what seemed appealing to her then may not seem that way anymore. Boba didn’t dare stir. If this was the last time he would be able to hold Fennec like this, he would make it last.

She fidgeted in her sleep, then shifted until they were face to face. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Hi,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Good morning.”

She studied his face. Boba noted the confusion that used to adorn her face, as she tried to decide if she was seeing Cutter or someone else, was gone. She saw  _ him _ now, with absolute clarity.

“Do we have to leave? Can’t we just stay here?”

“We do. You’ve been sleeping on sand for days, I want to check the cybernetics.”

“Yeah ok,” Fennec said, seeing the logic and sitting up carefully.

They packed up quickly and were on the road before the suns had fully peeked over the horizon. They made few stops on the final leg of their trip. Whenever they did, they didn’t speak of what had happened between them the night before. They hardly spoke at all, the arduous trip finally seeming to affect them. 

The closer they got to Mos Eisley, the more anxious Boba got. What would happen once they reached his little hut? Would Fennec decide she’d been hasty to pledge her services to him and leave? Would she stay, with the caveat that they remain strictly professional. He hardly dared believe that she would try to take him up on the promises he’d made the night before. Though if she did he would be only too happy to fulfill them until she begged for mercy.

By the time they parked the speeder bikes in front of the hut in the late afternoon, Boba could hardly breathe. The air felt electric. He’d been right, half the thrill was in the anticipation, and he didn’t even know how this would all play out. He let her enter first, then followed her into the cool, quiet space. One she’d set her pack and helmet down, Fennec removed her jacket and threw it on one of the chairs. Her shirt followed shortly, and she sat on the table.

“Shall we?” Fennec asked.

Boba’s mouth went dry. This woman would drive him mad, the way she charged into things without preamble.

“Do you want me to remove the bandages while you get the cleaning solution, or is it easier if you do it all yourself?”

Right. Of course. She was talking about cleaning her cybernetics. 

“Go ahead and remove the bandage. Let me know if anything hurts.”

She did as he asked while he fetched his supplies. By the time he came back, she had the whole bandage off and he was pleased to see most of her bruises had faded. He began to carefully apply the cleaning solution to her cybernetic enhancements, cleaning out the sand and grit that built up on the road.

“We need to find you a better solution.”

“I have an idea, actually,” Fennec said, before launching into an explanation of the leather cover she planned on making herself. 

The cleaning took about half an hour, far less time than he’d anticipated. He turned his back to put the solution away and let her dress, but when he returned, he found her still seated on the table, her hair now open and cascading down her body in long black waves. She’d toed off her boots as well, and they lay uselessly on the floor.

“What are you doing, Shand?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“You promised to, how did you put it, ‘have your way with me’?” 

She hopped off the table and walked towards him.

“I’m ready if you are.”

“Shand…we were drunk last night, we-”

“Do you not want to?”

“What I want…I don’t…Don’t feel as though you have to. Out of…obligation.”

“The only obligation I know of,” she said, her voice low, “was your promise to make me  _ scream.” _

These last words, she whispered directly in his ear, her chest pressed to his.

“Fennec…I….you know I’m not  _ him _ ?” Boba said, giving voice to what had truly been weighing on his mind. “No matter how much we look alike. I’m not…I can’t be…”

Fennec took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his.

“ _ Boba, _ ” she whispered, saying his name for the first time. “It’s you I want. Touch me. Please.”

***

If Fennec had known how Boba would react to hearing her say those words, she would have said them long ago. With an almost animalistic groan, he took her mouth with his, kissing her deeply and furiously. He picked her up and carried her back to the table, kissing her all the while. He broke their kiss to set her carefully on the edge, and she wrapped her legs around him, keeping him close. The evidence of his desire was already starting to show against his pants and she reached forward, but he caught her hands with his and moved them out of the way.

“Oh no,” he said, laughing softly. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulled the straps of her breast band over her shoulders then pushed the whole thing down, freeing her breasts and trapping her arms in place. He ran his thumbs over her bare nipples as he kissed her again. Fennec felt a rush of arousal through her body, and a dampness between her thighs. 

He gave her swollen lips a reprieve then, moving the attentions of his mouth down to one of her breasts, placing messy kisses all over them before capturing one of the nipples in his mouth. She arched her back to give him better access and moaned. As he switched his focus to her other breast, she began to grind on the table as she panted, desperate for more friction.

“So impatient,” Boba scolded quietly. “But alright. You’ve been a good girl.”

Fennec moaned both at the comment and in anticipation of what he would do to her next.

He pulled up on her breastband, liberating her from its clutches entirely, then threw it to the side.

He brought his hands to her hips and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her leggings.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

She nodded furiously.

“Say it, Fennec.”

“I’m sure.  _ Boba _ ,” she said, putting extra stress on his name. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.

Boba peeled her leggings off and discarded those as well, until she was sitting on his table in nothing but her underwear.

“Tsk tsk,” he said, gently running his fingers over her wet panties. “Is this where you want me? Right here?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, Boba, I-”

But without waiting for her to finish, he slid his hand between fabric and skin, and brushed against her clit before sinking a finger into her. She inhaled sharply before relaxing around his hand.

“That’s it, Fennec. Just relax. Let your boss take care of you now.”

She felt her inner walls clench at that.

“Hmm,” he said, with a wry smile. “Looks like I’m not the only one who likes it when I’m the boss.”

Fennec sighed quietly as Boba brushed circles on her clit with his thumb.

“Is this good? Or do you want more?”

“More,” Fennec moaned, moving her hips. “I want more.”

Boba pushed a second finger into her, and she moved her hips along with the motion. He curled his fingers inside her as she rode his hand, a breathy sigh escaping with every movement he made inside her. 

Suddenly, despite the beautiful rhythm they’d set together, he withdrew his hand and she cried out in protest.

“Doesn’t seem fair for my hand to have all the fun,” Boba said, before sinking to his knees in front of her and sliding off her underwear.

“What do you-OH,” she gasped, lying back on the table as he covered her clit with his mouth. He kissed it, gently stroking her thighs as he did so, until she was squirming on the table, her hips moving against him, seeking her release. He pushed his fingers back inside her and for a moment, his hand and lips moved in tandem to bring her perilously close to the edge. He replaced his lips with his thumb once more, and she propped herself up on her elbows. He stood and kissed her, and she could taste herself on him.

“Are you close, Fennec?”

“Yes,” she panted. “So. Close.” 

“Tell your boss who makes you feel like this.” he whispered in her ear. “I want you to come for me, and say my name when you do.”

She hit her climax then, her inner walls clenching around his fingers as she gasped his name over and over again, before falling back onto the table absolutely breathless. He stroked her down from her peak, then gently pulled out his fingers. He leaned over her on the table and kissed her again. 

Taking advantage of his position, Fennec reached for his shirt and pulled at it. Her angle was a poor one, and she was glad to see Boba take the hint and take over. He dropped the shirt and helped her sit up. She pressed her chest to his, relishing the feeling of his skin on hers.

She wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers along his back, gently brushing against his scars and burn marks with the tips of her fingers.

Her eyes met his, and in them she saw a shade of embarrassment. He was no doubt comparing himself to the millions of men that shared his face and body, one of whom Fennec had been intimately familiar with.

“Beautiful,” she said, kissing him softly on the corner of his mouth. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

He scooped her up again and carried her over to the small bed. He set her down gently, and she moved back to make room for him.

He unfastened his belt and pushed his pants down, freeing his cock, then moved towards her.

“Are you ready?” he asked her. “Are you still sure?”

“I’m still sure,” Fennec said, spreading her legs a little wider to make room. 

Boba briefly brought his hand between her legs to make sure her body was as ready as she was. His fingers were immediately coated in evidence of her arousal. Taking that as a positive sign, he lowered his body over hers and slowly pushed into her. Fennec moaned and relaxed her body. Once he was completely sheathed, he just lay there for a moment, looking her in the eye, brushing stray hair off her face.

“Are you ok?” he asked. “This is ok?”

“Boba,” Fennec groaned. “Move. Please.”

He pulled himself out halfway before pushing back into her, slowly at first then quicker once he saw how responsive she was.

“More, Boba. I need more,” Fennec moaned. She wrapped her legs around him, using her heels to try and press him closer.

He began to thrust harder, bringing his hand in between them to rub circles on her clit.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Boba, I’m so close.”

She threw her arms around him, her hands resting on his shoulders, her nails digging into his back.

“Let go, Fennec.”

She came apart then with a cry, and he found his own release not long after.

He pulled out carefully, then collapsed on top of her. They lay there for a few moments, swimming in their own bliss. Fennec absentmindedly stroked Boba’s head, which was resting on her chest.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she laughed.

“What is it?” Boba asked.

“In all my life,” Fennec said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a job with perks this good.”

Boba smiled then, a big proper smile, then kissed her.

“Just you wait and see how good they can be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there a rule against posting this kind of stuff on Christmas Day, I wonder?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait,” she said, walking up to him looking bemused, “do you mean to tell me the great bounty hunter Boba Fett doesn’t carry a blaster because he’s scared of attracting trouble?”
> 
> “I haven’t needed a blaster in years. My gaffi stick does the job.”
> 
> He picked it up from where it lay by the door for emphasis, before slinging it over his shoulder. He closed the distance between them.
> 
> “And nothing scares me, Shand,” he growled, brushing his lips against her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's half unapologetic smut, half plot at this point. Balance.

Boba couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so damn  _ peaceful _ . Before his incident in the Sarlacc pit, he’d always been on the move, one job to the next, finding quick comfort in the arms of a stranger whenever he could. In the years after the incident, his life had been quiet. Dull. Routine. But never peaceful. He supposed some might find peace in that, but he couldn’t. He’d been restless, yet so consumed with a singular desire he’d been unable to dig himself out of the new pit that he’d dug for himself. 

In the last three days, things had changed. He was still consumed with desire, yes, but the object of that desire was no longer some elusive concept of family legacy and all that represented. It instead came in the form of Fennec Shand. The woman who now slept beside him, whose mind and sense of humour he found intriguing and whose body he’d become  _ extremely _ familiar with since their return from the desert.

Since that first evening, they hadn’t left his home at all. They barely had cause to get dressed, other than taking it in turns to throw on a long tunic to fetch water from the small moisture vaporator behind the hut. With very little else to occupy their time, they spent every moment they could exploring one another. Boba took great care to discover everything that Fennec liked, and she did the same for him. 

On the dawn of the fourth day, they lay on the small bed, her back pressed to his chest and their legs tangled. One of his arms was stretched under her head while the other rested on her hip. He’d been awake for some time, but didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to disturb her. He found such comfort in watching her sleep, in the slow rise and fall of her chest, the faint sound of her cybernetics, and the worry-free expression on her face. This, he knew for a fact, was peace. 

Fennec stirred in his arms, and turned to look at him. She gave him a sleepy smile through half-closed eyes. She raised her hand and lightly stroked his cheek with her fingers, then guided him forward until his lips met hers. The kiss was soft and tender, and Boba didn’t dare push it beyond that just yet. He had other plans for her in any case. He slowly ran his hand down from her hip to her thigh and back up again, something he’d learned never failed to turn her on. He repeated the motion a few times as Fennec sighed quietly into his mouth. He kissed a line to her neck and focused all his attentions there, better enabling her to let out the kind of breathy moan that made his cock twitch.

“Boba,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. She brought her hand to his and guided it to her centre. He coated his fingers in her slick, then pushed two inside at once, bringing his thumb immediately to her clit. He moved his hand, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her, and she rolled her hips, matching his speed. She tilted her head back slightly as a moan escaped her, and Boba took the opportunity to move his other arm, using it to prop himself up on his side. 

His eyes fixed on her face as he continued to work her, bringing her to her peak with the touch of his hand alone. He would never tire of how beautiful she was like this, lost in an ecstasy for which he was the sole cause. She brought her hands to her breasts and caught her nipples between her fingers, needing additional stimulation. He quickened the pace of his hand, and she began to move her hips faster as well. She was close, he could feel it in the way her inner walls clenched more frequently. He stayed where he was, transfixed in his desire to watch her find her bliss, his own release a secondary concern. He helped her in the only way he could without changing position, a way he’d come to learn that she loved.

“Fennec,” he whispered. “Have I mentioned how much I love when you play with your tits?”

She moaned in response.

“You’re so good, the way you always come for me. So beautiful,” he said, still whispering. “Does this feel good, when I do this to you?”

He increased the speed and the pressure of his thumb on her little bundle of nerves.

“So good,” she mumbled, lost in a haze of arousal. 

“Come for me Fennec,” Boba said, throwing a bit of authority into his voice. “Can you show me how beautiful you are when you come?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes boss,” Fennec gasped, then immediately came apart on his hand. He stroked her down, then kissed her deeply.

“So perfect,” he said, breaking the kiss and brushing her hair out of her face. “So beautiful.”

***

Fennec could get used to waking up like this. To having a man who so thoroughly understood her body that he could make her come with the touch of his hand and the sound of his voice. To having a man who held her close and just watched her as she came down from her high, the look on his face giving every indication that this is the only thing he ever wanted to do, the only place he ever wanted to be.

It had been so long since she’d had something like this. Even when she had, it was still different. With Cutter, they’d been young, and glad to have one another. But neither of them knew what it was like to lose someone, to be truly alone in their loss. Neither of them knew that the joy of finding someone who was a beacon in the darkness could be eliminated in a second, leaving them so much worse off than they had been before.

Fennec was lying facing Boba as he cradled her. She ran one of her fingers along the largest, most prominent scar on his face, in an almost absentminded gesture.

“You like the scar, Shand?” Boba asked, chuckling.

“I do,” she said, meaning it. “You’ll have to tell me how you got it sometime.”

“I told you already. Sarlacc pit.”

“Come on, Fett, your scars can’t all be from the Sarlacc.”

“One or two of them aren’t, but most are. Before all that, I used to be a handsome man, you know.”

“Oh, don’t fish for compliments,” Fennec said, wiggling out of his embrace.

“Where are you going?” Boba asked.

Fennec pushed him onto his back and straddled him, a devious smile on her face. She leaned down and kissed along his facial scar, then down his jaw to his neck, then his chest. She could feel his cock growing even harder against her leg. She positioned herself over him, then used her hand to guide him to her entrance and sank down on him slowly. She loved the way he filled her, loved how it felt when he moved inside her. She rolled her hips experimentally and he groaned, thrusting up into her. Pleased at the response, she repeated the motion a few times, setting a rhythm that made Boba’s breath come in faster. He ran his hands along her thighs. Her inner walls clenched once, and Boba’s hand immediately lifted from her thigh as he tried to bring it to her clit. She caught his hand and placed it back on her thigh.

“You take such good care of me,” Fennec said, her voice low. “You just enjoy this. Let me take care of everything.”

And with that, she brought her own hand to her clit, making small circles in just the way she liked. She knew the sight of her touching herself drove Boba wild. She began to do so more frantically, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. She reached her climax and cried out. The sensation of her walls clenching made Boba come apart within seconds of her. She rode him through her aftershocks, then lifted herself off and lay back down beside him, planting a lazy kiss on his lips.

She curled into him and stared at the ceiling as he played with her hair. This was so utterly peaceful, and she never wanted to leave this bed.

“I have bad news,” Boba said, with a pained sigh. “We need to go into town.”

***

The look Fennec had given him when he told her they needed to head into Mos Eisley because they had run out of  _ food _ of all things, was a look Boba hoped he could soon forget. That look of incredulity she’d shot him was one for the ages. 

So it was with a great sigh that Fennec dragged herself out of bed to get dressed. Boba hated watching her leave, even though he knew he’d have to get up momentarily too. He allowed himself a moment of pure indulgence, watching her try to locate various items of clothing from where they’d been carelessly tossed in the heat of the moment. 

By the time Boba was up and dressed, Fennec was nearly ready to go too. She’d taken some time over the last few days to fashion herself a sort of leather brace to cover her cybernetics. It was well made, and could be pulled open easily for emergency maintenance or cleaning. She pulled her shirt down over it, stuck an emergency knife in her boot, and holstered her blaster. She took in his appearance as he stood waiting by the door.

“I still think you need a blaster,” she said.

“And I think if you show up in town like that with a blaster right on your hip, you’re asking for trouble.”

“Trouble usually finds me, whether or not I ask.”

“At least cover it with your jacket.”

“It’s too hot! Wait,” she said, walking up to him looking bemused, “do you mean to tell me the great bounty hunter Boba Fett doesn’t carry a blaster because he’s scared of attracting trouble?”

“I haven’t needed a blaster in years. My gaffi stick does the job.”

He picked it up from where it lay by the door for emphasis, before slinging it over his shoulder. He closed the distance between them.

“And nothing scares  _ me _ , Shand,” he growled, brushing his lips against her ear. Fennec lay her hands on his chest, but he stepped back.

“We should go,” he said, smiling wickedly.

“Bad man,” Fennec said, shaking her head as she headed up the stairs. “You’re a bad, bad man.”

They decided to walk into town, figuring if their purchases became too much to carry, they could hire the little Weequay child Reesa to deliver it to them on her bantha. It was still early enough in the day that the heat from the suns was more pleasant than oppressive. It occurred to Boba as they arrived in town a half hour later that he’d never actually been to Mos Eisley this early before. It was a completely different place in the early morning. 

Families ventured from store to store, shop to shop. Children ran screaming through the street, playing some sort of game. Their parents called after them to be careful, or to quiet down, but their warnings went completely unheeded. Boba also saw many couples, young and old, attending to their errands as well, strolling at a leisurely pace, hand in hand. Boba wanted to take Fennec’s hand in his own, but he stopped himself. He had no idea how that would be received. 

Intimacy and passion in private was one thing. It gave them an excuse to work through the highly-charged tension that had sprung up between them. It was an outlet for sensations and experiences they had both been without for quite some time. It was a chance to touch and be touched by another, and to feel the kind of release they both desperately needed.

But to take her hand as they went about their business in town? That was far more personal, more intimate than anything they’d done together. It signaled their relationship went beyond the sexual, and while Boba might feel that way, he couldn’t say with any certainty that Fennec felt the same. She desired him, her responsiveness to his touch told him that much. But he doubted it went beyond that. Her heart still doubtlessly belonged to Cutter, and Boba was certain his face was a constant reminder of what she’d lost. If she did decide to love again, he doubted he’d be the recipient of her affection. 

He was still pondering the question as the two of them entered the cantina, having decided to eat something before heading to the shops. They ordered something simple at the bar, paid, and found a seat in an alcove. Once their food arrived, it finally hit Boba just how hungry he was, and it appeared Fennec felt the same.

“Ugh, finally,” Fennec said, spooning a large quantity of food into her mouth. “I feel like I haven’t eaten properly in weeks.”

“ _ Weeks _ ?” Boba said in mock offence before shrugging. “I would be offended, but you’re right. This is better than anything I could come up with.”

“Your cooking isn’t bad, it’s just…”

“Limited in variety?”

Fennec smiled apologetically and Boba laughed. They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence, sipping at the caf that the serving droid had brought them, and watching the various beings that came passing through. 

Suddenly Fennec tensed and set her cup down.

“We need to go, Fett,” she said quickly.

“What? Why?” 

Boba could see her eyes fixed on a specific point behind him but he knew better than to turn around. Fennec didn’t answer. She stayed perfectly still as her eyes tracked the source of her concern, then she abruptly stood. 

“They’ve stepped into the back room. And they didn’t see me. Let’s go.”

Boba stood as well and followed her without further question. She led him away from the cantina and down a few back streets, until they were in a totally secluded, dead-end alleyway. She leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief.

“What was that, Shand?” Boba asked. 

She glanced quickly around to make sure they were alone.

“We need to talk.”

***

Fennec couldn’t believe that the wonderful morning she’d been having had come crashing down so quickly. She knew the trip into town had been essential, but as she and Boba were hurriedly ducking through back alleys to escape the group she’d spotted in the cantina, Fennec found herself wishing she were a younger woman. Not because escape would have been easier, but because she could then convince herself that food was a secondary concern to passion, that all she and Boba needed to survive was each other. The kind of sentimental nonsense she’d seen in holodramas as a teenager. 

But she wasn’t a teenager anymore. She knew that spendings days on end wrapped up in the arms of a man was no substitute for more practical concerns. And yet, look where that had landed them.

To Boba’s credit, he didn’t question her sudden insistence that they flee the cantina. He didn’t try to stop her the moment they’d stepped outside. He waited until they were safe and alone before asking her anything. And she owed him an explanation. 

“Those three that walked into the cantina,” Fennec began, “they work for the Menco crime family, small time gangsters. They hired me to do a job. I don’t know how they found me, must have gotten my information from someone else. But the job was simple enough. Head to Tatooine, guard a high value target for a few days.”

“Wait, you said you came to Tatooine to find and kill Jabba the Hutt,” Boba said, looking confused.

“That’s what made their job offer so attractive. Travel expenses paid, and once the job was done, I’d be free to do as I pleased. I wouldn’t work for such a small-time gang otherwise.”

Fennec realized how that must sound, a mercenary with employment standards. But to his credit once again, Boba said nothing. He nodded at her to continue. 

“But, as soon as I arrived, word got out that the notorious Fennec Shand was on Tatooine, and it set all the bounty hunters after me. I couldn’t rendezvous with my contact as planned, I’d draw heat onto the target. That’s when I got word that Calican was serious about taking me out, and…you know the rest.”

For a long moment, Boba said nothing.

“What I can’t figure out is, why did you place yourself in my service? Why not let me leave you at the medcentre then go about your business?”

Fennec sighed. She needed to explain herself quickly. The longer she waited, the less likely it would be that he’d believe her. She couldn’t quite believe how fast things had changed for her, either. And she needed him to believe her. She couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he left her here. 

“I knew it had been too long. I missed the meeting with my handler, and I knew showing up late would probably get me killed. So at first, staying with you seemed like a good way to get away from the Menco.”

Boba nodded, but was no longer meeting her eyes. Fennec tried to continue, but Boba spoke up suddenly.

“And the last few days?” he asked, his voice hollow. “Was that you trying to stay hidden too?”

She felt her heart sink. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. 

“No! You have to know, my working for you  _ started _ with me trying to hide, but that’s not why I’m here now. That night, with the Tuskens, when I asked to stay. I stayed because I wanted to.”

She rushed forward and took his hand in both of hers. He tensed for a moment, then finally looked at her. She felt tears prickling the corner of her eyes. 

“ _ Everything _ that happened the last few days happened because I wanted it to,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “You have to believe me. I wouldn’t trade in the last few days for anything.”

He said nothing. Fennec thought she would almost rather take on the whole Menco family alone than have to look at his crestfallen expression one moment longer.

He took one of her hands properly in his, and set his other hand on her back, using it to pull her close. He kissed her gently, and Fennec felt her knees go weak. Perhaps there was room in her life for a little holodrama sentiment after all. 

“Let’s go home, we can worry about coming back into town some other time,” Boba said. 

They slowly made their way out of the alley. She’d let go of his hand so she could slip ahead and keep watch for the three goons from the cantina.

Her head was still swimming in everything that had happened that day, the highs and the lows. So it was little wonder the sounds behind her went completely unnoticed until she felt the cold sensation of a blaster barrel pressed against her head. She raised her hands slowly.

“Fennec Shand,” sneered a voice behind her. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well if we can't end on smut, we end on a cliffhanger. It's how I do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I should have told Boba to run, she thought, as she descended the stairs into Boba’s home. I should have left as soon as I was well enough to go. I should have gone to the medcenter. I should have just told him to leave me in the desert to die.
> 
> “Shand,” Boba said, breaking her inner self-castigation. “What’s going on?”
> 
> She would have to tell him. It wasn’t fair to leave him in the dark like this. She couldn’t believe she’d been so careless, and now another man she cared for might die because of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all as always for the lovely comments and the kudos! You keep this little ship of ours sailing, and I love you for it!
> 
> This will probably be the last update of 2020, so enjoy, have a safe and happy New Year, and we'll be back with more Bonnec goodness in 2021!

_ Krif. _

She’d been so careful. She’d led Boba far from the cantina before daring to let her guard down, and they found her anyway. Maybe she should have let them see her earlier. It wasn’t as though they could shoot her dead inside a busy establishment, but out here? 

They would have no such qualms out here.

Wincing at her own carelessness, Fennec turned around slowly, keeping her hands raised. She stopped once the barrel of the blaster became level with her eyes.

Standing in front of her were three Trandoshans, clad in jackets that bore the gold sigil of the Menco family. Each of them pointed a blaster directly at her. The two who stood further back were younger, and unknown to Fennec. But the one whose blaster was all but pressed against her forehead, who stood closest to her with a gloating expression on his reptilian face, him she was familiar with. 

“Hi Naarssk,” Fennec said, affecting an air of nonchalance. “What brings you to Tatooine?”

“Don’t try it, Shand,” Naarssk hissed. “You know why we’re here.”

Fennec winced internally. She couldn’t help but think how much better she liked it when Boba called her “Shand”. When he said it, she felt a thrill run up her spine. Coming out of the Trandoshan’s mouth, it sounded like an insult.

“Boss wants to know why you didn’t meet up with your contact as planned. Whole operation got derailed because you didn’t show. You’ve made some very powerful people angry.”

Fennec prided herself on staying cool under pressure, but she also didn’t respond particularly well to threats.

“I’d hardly call a two-bit mob boss ‘powerful people’, but I’m just a hired gun, what do I know?”

“Nothing, clearly,” sneered Naarssk. “This goes so much deeper than you realize.”

That made Fennec pause. She’d done some research before accepting the gig, but she’d been so motivated by the idea of getting to Tatooine that she hadn’t done more than a cursory check into the family. Was it possible she’d missed something major?

“I thought so,” Naarssk said, sounding amused. “Now, you’re going to-”

He was cut off by the sound of a blunt object striking something solid. He whipped around, pointing his blaster at the new figure in their midst. Boba stood over the bodies of one of the Trandoshans, his gaffi stick held aloft in a fighting stance. Fennec seized the opportunity afforded by the distraction and drew her blaster. She shot the second Trandoshan square in the chest, and as he fell she trained her weapon on Naarssk instead. 

“What  _ you’re _ going to do, Naarssk, is walk away if you’d like to keep your miserable skull intact. Tell the Menco you couldn’t find me, tell them I was shot to death in the Dune Sea. That’s close enough to the truth.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Naarssk said, pointing behind Fennec.

“You really think I’m stupid enough to turn around?”

“Shand,” Boba said suddenly.

Her eyes slid over to him in surprise. He nodded towards where the Trandoshan had pointed, and Fennec permitted herself to peek. 

Behind her stood a dozen beings, some human, a few more Trandoshans, even a couple of Wookies for good measure. All of them wore clothing that bore the Menco insignia, and all were armed. If they had been more spaced out, Fennec knew she’d have reasonable chance at taking them all out, with or without Boba’s help. But as it was? She knew when she was beat. She turned back to the Trandoshan.

“What can I do for you?”

“Let’s head somewhere a little more civilized.”

***

As the Trandoshan - Naarssk, Fennec had called him - led them through the streets of Mos Eisley, Boba found himself wishing he’d been just a little quicker in attacking. Between the two of them, he and Fennec could have taken out their three pursuers and run before the rest of the crew showed up. But Boba had played it safe. Naarssk had had a blaster pressed to Fennec’s head, and would doubtless have pulled the trigger at the fist sounds of a struggle. 

_ This could have been avoided _ , Boba thought bitterly,  _ if only I carried my blaster. _

But there was nothing to be done now. With the dozen or so lackeys watching their every move, Boba knew that the two of them might be able to kill a few before they had time to react. But he also knew that they were hopelessly outnumbered. The only thing they would gain from attacking now would be to wind up in custody once more, but this time with far angrier jailers.

So instead, he would do what he always did when the scenario was full of unknowns. Boba would wait. And watch.

They were taken to the cantina once again. Naarssk led Fennec into the room at blasterpoint, and a handful of the lackeys followed them in. Boba made to follow as well, when a large hairy Wookie paw landed on his shoulder and hauled him back. The door to the room was closed, barring Boba from hearing what was being discussed. The solid wood of the door also meant that he was now visually cut off from Fennec, who was locked in a room with individuals who did not mean well. 

However, there was one advantage. The group had been split in two, and having succeeded in their task, those that remained in Boba’s company had begun to relax. A couple of them were posted by the door, but they did not appear to be taking their task too seriously. 

Boba had waited. He had watched. Now was the time to act.

“Barkeep,” Boba called out. “I suggest you ask your patrons to leave. And lock the door.”

“We’re about to get our mid-morning rush, are you-”

But whatever he’d been about to say was cut short at a single look from Boba. He was certain fury and impatience rolled off him in waves, and that the bartender could detect it. Sure enough, within moments, the few patrons that had remained after the arrival of more than a dozen Menco goons were being escorted out. When the last of them had left, the bartender locked the door, then barricaded himself in the managers office. 

Despite his assumptions about their intelligence, it seemed the goons had some idea of what was going through Boba’s head. The two Wookies did not give up their guard posts by the door, but the others - three humans, three Trandoshans - moved to strategic positions around Boba, waiting for him to make the first move. Or, rather, they placed themselves in what they assumed to be strategic positions. 

Because he was Boba Fett. And there was little he hadn’t already seen. He swung the gaffi stick off his back in preparation.

The humans attacked first, as Boba knew they would. They’d been spoiling for a fight since the alleyway. But their eagerness made them sloppy. He sent two of them flying into the bar with blows from the bent end, certain that if the impact didn’t kill them immediately, the resulting injuries from the crash would. The third human required marginally more effort, a stab from the sharp end of the stick finally putting an end to his attempt to harm Boba.

The Trandoshans were a little more complicated. Their reptilian bodies were not as soft and breakable as the humans had been. Still, every being had a weak spot. And decades of experience had taught Boba where to find each and every one. Several carefully placed, repeated blows dispatched the Trandoshans, before Boba turned his attention to the Wookies. He took them on one at a time, using their sheer size and momentum against them. 

He stood over the bodies, breathing hard. He’d told Fennec that he didn’t think he’d been a good man when he’d worn his father’s armour. While he stood by that assessment, he also couldn’t deny how much he’d  _ missed _ this. The action, the fighting. His father was a Mandalorian, he had a warriors blood in his veins, and at that moment every muscle in his body sang with the sheer joy returning to their true purpose once more. 

The door to the private room opened, stopping short as it made contact with one of the Trandoshans on the floor. It closed again before reopening faster than before, shoving the body out of the way in the process.

“Well, Shand,” Naarssk said, looking back at Fennec. “Looks like you weren’t entirely honest with me.”

***

“He’s no one,” Fennec had said as soon as the door closed behind her, when Naarssk had asked her who her associate was.

“A no one who managed to sneak up on us in an alleyway and kill one of my guards?”

“He got lucky. Besides, it’s not like those guards were the best and brightest Menco had to offer.”

Naarssk conceded the point.

“Still, the legendary Fennec Shand, hanging around with a no-account human who fights like the sand people?”

“I was injured,” she said simply. “Needed to pick up work while I recovered.”

“You’re better now though?” Naarssk asked with mock concern. “‘Cause we got a job for you.”

“Thought I missed out on the job.”

“This one. But you gotta make it up to the boss somehow. We paid good money sending you to Tatooine.”

Fennec said nothing. They had her there, and these were not the type to accept a financial payback. No, they wanted payment in service. 

Naarssk spelled out the details of the job for her, phrasing things as though she had a choice in the matter. As though she could thank him for the offer, then refuse. The sole point of negotiation was his suggestion that she bring Boba with her. On that matter, she refused point blank.

“I told you, he’s no one,” she said. “He’ll be useless out there.

“Fine, in that case tonight we’ll be on our way to-”

A persistent scuffling sound from outside had grown louder and louder culminating in a very loud thud. 

Naarssk tried to open the door, and found it stuck. He closed partially it to give himself more momentum, then shoved it open. It went with difficulty, the body of a dead Trandoshan having impeded its path.

In the middle of the mass of bodies on the floor stood Boba, looking for all the world like the bounty hunter he had once been. He wore an expression of wild fury and triumph, and Fennec’s heart sank. There was no way Naarssk would believe her “no one” story now. Whether he realized it or not. Boba had just become part of her contract with the Menco. 

“What do they call you then?” Naarssk said to Boba, barely concealing the glee in his voice. Boba’s eyes darted over to Fennec, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. 

“‘Round here I’m known as Gears,” Boba said, the lie coming out so casually Fennec nearly believed it herself.

“An odd name for a human, isn’t it?”

“It was my nickname in the service,” Boba said. “I’m a clone.”

“I knew your face looked familiar! A deserter then?” Naarssk sounded intrigued.

“Discharged. A problem with my growth acceleration tank.”

“Ah,” Naarssk said. It was impossible to tell if he believed this or not.

“Well,” he continued, “you’ll be pleased to hear that you’re heading back into active service of a sort! Ms. Shand here has just accepted a contract for the both of you with the Menco family, one that will be taking you both off planet for a time. We leave immediately!”

The look Boba shot her was one of utter confusion mixed with something else. Concern perhaps? Possibly betrayal, though Fennec couldn’t let herself believe that. 

She put off Naarssk’s demands that they leave immediately, pointing out that neither of them had their weapons or equipment and they would need to fetch them first. She swore that they would meet them at the requisite docking bay within two hours, then led Boba out of the cantina and into the scorching Tatooine day. 

Though they walked with an unbearable silence between them, the inside of Fennec’s head was anything but.

_ I should have told Boba to run _ , she thought, as she descended the stairs into Boba’s home.  _ I should have left as soon as I was well enough to go. I should have gone to the medcenter. I should have just told him to leave me in the desert to die. _

“Shand,” Boba said, breaking her inner self-castigation. “What’s going on?”

She would have to tell him. It wasn’t fair to leave him in the dark like this. She couldn’t believe she’d been so careless, and now another man she cared for might die because of her.

***

She didn’t need to say a word for Boba to see that whatever that Trandoshan had said to her in the cantina was eating her up inside. For the most part it seemed like her business, it was her past after all, and she would tell him about it when she was ready. Except that the Trandoshan had mentioned a job for them both. By the time they’d entered the coolness of the hut, Boba could wait no longer. 

“Shand,” he called out to Fennec, who was gathering her belongings. “What’s going on?”

She stopped in her tracks and he quickly caught up with her. He pushed his former worries out of his mind and took her hand in his, and to his relief, she didn’t push it away, but held on tighter.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

“Into what?”

“Menco wants payback for me running out on the job before. There’s a target, on Corellia. They want me to kill him.”

Her beautiful eyes held such sadness, but Boba was unable to look away.

“An assassination?”

“Unfortunately, I have a reputation as a…what did he say? An ‘unparalleled sniper, ideal for cutting through the Corellian chaos and hitting my mark’.”

When she’d told him about her life before, her life with Cutter, she’d looked back on the assassinations with the most disgust. Boba was inclined to agree. Assassinations, for an act of violence that was so intensely  _ personal, _ they almost never held any stakes for the one carrying it out. It was just a job, a payday that left the assassin feeling sick and miserable for days after.

“I hate it,” Fennec said bitterly. “I hate that I’ve been pushed into this corner. I was ready to put that part of my life behind me.”

“You had no choice?”

She scoffed.

“It was that or they’d take my life in payment. It's no choice at all. What kind of heartless monster would it make me to shoot the love of my life to save my own skin, but draw the line at an unknown target.”

That was the hard truth of it, and there was nothing Boba could say to deny it. Any attempt would only ring false. 

“What does this have to do with me?”

“I told him we were associates here, that I was doing work for you while I recovered from an injury.”

“You call that ‘work’?” Boba asked, attempting to lighten the mood. Fennec smirked and chuckled softly.

“Point is, I told him you weren’t anyone special. I didn’t want you dragged into my mess. But after your performance in there I don’t think he believed me.”

He understood her concerns, especially after everything he’d been through. But a small part of Boba relished the idea of getting off of Tatooine, of once again getting to do what he was good at, and enjoyed doing. He told Fennec as much.

“Besides,” he said, pulling her in and planting soft kisses on her face, “how could you think I’d let you put yourself in danger without me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could any of this POSSIBLY go wrong


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pulled her hips flush with his, forcing her to stand up straighter and look him in the eye.
> 
> “Then tell me why you really wanted me here.”
> 
> “I missed you,” Fennec whispered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, Bonnec fans!
> 
> Despite the ominous authors note from last time, we're keeping things a bit lighter today. It's a holiday, after all. 
> 
> I promise the pain train will still be waiting at the station in a few days time. I'm also fairly certain the chapter count is going to go up again, but I'll update that next time!

The trip to Corellia was relatively uneventful. Fennec and Boba boarded a mid-sized transport that had seen better days. It boasted a handful of uncomfortable seats and a small holotable jutting out of one side of the bulkhead. As soon as they boarded, Fennec sat in the seat closest to the holotable, fastened herself in and stared straight ahead, more nervous than she’d ever say out loud. Takeoff was rough, exiting the planet’s atmosphere was rougher, and the less said about the jump to hyperspace the better. She didn’t even have the luxury of taking Boba’s hand in her own. She had made a lot of mistakes getting to this point, but that would not be one of them. Menco would not discover the nature of her relationship with Boba if she had anything to say about it.

Whatever the nature of that relationship was. Fennec wasn’t entirely sure. They’d both been around too long for her to entertain fanciful ideas of romance, the way she had with Cutter. She enjoyed the time spent together, she loved the way he made her feel in bed, but was there anything beyond that? She knew it didn’t really matter, but she also knew the idea of him leaving her one day scared her more than she’d care to admit.

The ship shook in hyperspace, and Fennec was properly nauseated. 

“Naarssk!” she snapped, “Can we get on with the briefing?”

She needed something to focus on, otherwise she might be sick. Boba stood from his seat and moved to the back of the space, where all their gear lay. He retrieved and carefully took apart his rifle, an ancient-looking thing, Tusken in origin, then began to clean each individual piece, reassembling as he went.

 _Finally got himself a blaster,_ she thought. _Well, sort of._

At long last, the Trandoshan switched on the holotable, and Fennec angled her body to face him. 

“It’s simple. Tomorrow at midday, there will be a ground transport passing by Diadem Square in Coronet City.” 

At this, Naarssk cued up the relevant image. The vehicle was large and ostentatious, exactly the kind of thing someone newly wealthy would drive. 

“Who’s the target?” Fennec asked.

“Never mind that,” Naarssk said, waving his hand dismissively. “All you need to do is hit the vehicle here, and the whole thing explodes. A design defect that we’ll use to our advantage.”

He indicated a small spot towards the back of the vehicle where the fuel tank was located.

“Explosions are messy,” Fennec said, shaking her head. “I’ll kill a lot more than whoever’s in that transport.”

“That’s hardly your problem, is it?”

“Well, by the looks of things none of it’s my problem. Makes me wonder if it’s even worth it.”

“Careful. You seem to think you have a choice here. And since when does the famous Fennec Shand balk at the idea of a little bloodshed?”

Fennec glared at him, but said nothing. 

“Your friend here will spot you,” he said, indicating Boba. “Owner of the vehicle will have a security team on the lookout for trouble, wouldn’t surprise me if they come for you. You’ll need a bodyguard.”

“No,” Boba said, surprising Fennec. Both she and Naarssk turned back to face him.

“I don’t charge into battle without the facts,” Boba shrugged. “You tell us who the target is, or no deal. Your quarrel is with Shand, not me. I can walk away.”

Though she knew he was playing up the indifference to imply a distance between the two of them, hearing him call her “Shand” again sent a thrill running through her. She was also incredibly turned on at the way he’d knocked Naarssk down several notches. He was so tender with her, it was easy to forget the more aggressive demeanour he presented to the world. 

“Fine,” Naarssk hissed. “The transport belongs to a Mr. Ris Morlow, made his money in shipbuilding, and is now one of the wealthiest men on Corellia.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Fennec said in mock concern. “What do you want with him?”

“Oh no. You have enough information.”

It would have been easier if he’d just told her what Menco wanted with this Mr. Morlow. But she had enough to go on. She would do her research, she would carry out her plan, and this time she would make sure there were no mistakes.

***

It had been so long since he’d left the atmosphere of Tatooine, and seen the bright lines of hyperspace. In a better vessel, Boba might have been tempted to stare out the window like a child for the entire trip. Unfortunately, as they all continued to shake in their seats, Boba found he was feeling less and less thrilled as time went on, and more and more sick. After the ship gave another almighty jostle in hyperspace, Boba couldn’t help but think he’d feel safer riding his speeder bike all the way to Coronet City. 

He decided to double check his gear, both to be ready once they arrived, and to give his mind something else to focus on. By contrast, Fennec needed no outside elements to distract her. She sat in her seat, perfectly still with her teeth gritted together, staring at the information Naarssk was displaying.

When the ship landed at a miserable, gray landing bay outside Coronet City, it struck Boba then how used to Tatooine he’d become. Where the desert planet was usually deathly quiet in the evenings, Corellia was a hive of noise and activity. As they boarded their own small transport to carry them to their accommodation, Boba listened as the sounds of the spaceport gave way to the industrial sounds of the many shipbuilding facilities the planet was known for. By the time they disembarked in front of a slightly run-down building, the sounds around them had changed yet, this time the bustle of city life filling the air with its own characteristic hum. 

He and Fennec were taken to the top floor of the building, which turned out to be a hotel owned at least in part by the Menco, with this entire floor available for their personal use. Boba was unceremoniously directed into a room halfway down the hallway, and the door was slammed shut behind him. The space boasted a bed, a small table, a private fresher and a large window. Boba remembered enough about his travels before Tatooine to know that the room was shabby and outdated, but this was the first time in years that he’d be able to sleep in a room where no sand had been tracked in and he looked forward to the prospect. 

He set his gear on the floor, removed his long black cloak, and sat on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do with himself. It was too early to sleep, but it was unlikely he’d be allowed to wander the city. Back before Tatooine, he’d always used the night before a mission as the opportunity to release tension and find an outlet for the adrenaline that surged through him. He could feel the same rush building in him now, but with no way to relieve it, he worried about what kind of damage he might do if he was left in here all night.

He was just contemplating knocking out whoever guarded the corridor and heading out anyway when a new sound interrupted his thoughts: the sound of raised voices next door. One of them was new to him, but the other belonged to Fennec, and though he couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, they were clearly arguing. He pitied Fennec’s opponent, but couldn’t help smiling. She really was something formidable to behold.

Someone knocked at the door and entered without waiting for a reply. A young man, in the uniform of the Menco, stuck his head in.

“You, you’re needed next door,” said the man whose voice and chastened expression revealed him to be the one Fennec had been arguing with.

He followed him, half expecting to see Fennec standing in the middle of her room with blasters drawn. He quickly became so attached to this idea, that he was thoroughly unprepared for reality. 

Fennec _was_ standing in the centre of the room, but wearing an old robe, an annoyed expression, and judging by her bare legs and the way she held on to the upper edges of the robe, absolutely nothing else.

“Good, you’re here,” Fennec said immediately on spotting Boba. “Fett, can you please explain to this idiot that cybernetic enhancements are highly sophisticated pieces of machinery, and cannot be trusted to just anyone?”

“She’s right,” Boba said immediately, unsure where she was taking this. Was there an issue with her cybernetics? Had he even brought replacement parts? Corellia was an industrial planet, surely they’d have someth-

“I told you. I need his assistance!”

“And I told _you_ Ms. Shand, that there are people here at the hotel who are qualified for that,” the young man said, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Great, and when my organs short-circuit, I’m sure you’ll be first in line to tell Naarssk exactly how that happened.”

The young man blanched. Whatever they were talking about, he clearly hadn’t considered this eventuality.

“I-”

“It’s fine,” Boba said, cutting in. “I have a maintenance kit for her. I’ll be back.”

“Fine but…the walls are thin, Ms. Shand. I’ll know if you’re lying, If you’re conspiring against us or…”

“I promise, we won’t conspire against you,” Fennec said dryly, rolling her eyes.

Boba hastily returned to his room and grabbed the closest thing he had to a tool kit. He grabbed his emergency medpack for good measure. Whatever she was planning, he would play his part, including selling the lie she was telling. He returned to Fennec’s room, locking the door behind him. But when he turned back around, Fennec wasn’t there. 

“Shand?” he called out, setting the packs down on the table.

“In here.”

He could see a light on in the fresher and heard the water running. He removed his boots, then followed the sound of her voice and found her standing outside the shower, still wrapped in her robe. One hand was extended to test the temperature.

“What was all that about?” he asked her. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear her say it.

“Well,” Fennec said, removing her hand from under the water and slowly rubbing it dry on her robe-covered thigh, “I told them I wanted to wash the stink of that Trandoshan ship off me.”

She removed her other hand from the upper part of her robe and it fell open into a deep V, revealing the valley between her breasts.

“I also told them that cybernetics aren’t waterproof, and that I’d need someone to help me.”

She pulled on the thin belt holding the robe closed and the whole thing fell open. Boba had been right: she was completely naked underneath. Her slow striptease had already made his mouth go dry, and now he found himself incapable of speaking. 

“And I wanted that someone to be you,” Fennec finished quietly, closing the distance between the two of them. 

She pressed herself against him and slowly kissed his neck. He could feel the warmth of her body through his clothes, and longed for her skin against his own. Fennec clearly felt the same. She brought her hands to his waist and pulled his shirt up and over his head. She balled it up and threw it into her room, before turning back to kissing him. She cupped his cheek and kissed a line from his jaw to his chest then focused her attention there.

“Shand,” he said, breathing harder. “I told you your cybernetics are waterproof.”

She smirked against his chest, and he felt himself growing hard.

“You might have mentioned it, yes.”

He slid a hand beneath her robe and rested it on her back. He pulled her hips flush with his, forcing her to stand up straighter and look him in the eye.

“Then tell me why you really wanted me here.”

“I missed you,” Fennec whispered, wrapping both arms around him.

“You missed me?” Boba said in a low voice, eyes gleaming with mischief. He brought his hands up to her shoulders and slid her robe onto the floor. He then brought one of her hands between them and rested it over her heart.

“Did you miss me here?”

Still holding her hand, he slid it slowly down her front, careful to avoid her abdomen, then finally brought it to rest between her thighs.

“Or did you miss me here?” he growled into her ear.

He slowly guided two of her fingers between her folds to rest on her clit. He could feel both their hearts hammering in tandem. Her breath caught as he applied the slightest bit of pressure to her fingers, making her push on her little bundle of nerves. He worked her fingers with his own until Fennec moaned. Boba grew harder. He moved his hand away, and placed a single finger on her lips.

“Shhh. We have to be quiet, Shand, or that boy is going to come back in here.” He pressed his still-covered erection against her hand. “He’s going to take me away before I can get you off.”

Fennec nodded, and Boba stepped back. 

She took a shaky breath, and stepped towards the shower. Her hand was still planted between her legs. She stood under the shower head and let the water run in rivers over her curves. She looked like some kind of river goddess out of an old legend. 

He watched as she buried her fingers inside herself, using her thumb to tease her clit. She leaned against the tiled wall and circled her hips to match the movement of her hand.

“You better not keep me waiting,” she panted. “Or I’ll make myself scream and you’ll never even have the chance.”

Boba quickly removed the rest of his clothing and stood in front of her. He planted one hand on either side of her head, enjoying both the feeling of hot water running down his back, and the sight of Fennec pleasuring herself. He nipped at her shoulders and her neck, murmuring words of encouragement. The sound of Fennec’s breath hitching, and her soft moans nearly drove him over the edge.

“I can hear how close you are Fennec,” he whispered into her ear. “Make yourself come. It’s time. Let go, sweetheart.”

She came apart on her hand, with a loud cry that she stifled immediately by slapping her other hand over her mouth. She rode her own fingers as she came down, then pulled them out, breathing hard. Boba uncovered her mouth and kissed her.

He ran his hands down the sides of her body, bringing them to rest on her hips. He started rubbing circles into her skin with his thumbs, until she broke their kiss. 

“Hang on,” she said, still breathing shakily. “I need a second.”

Boba moved his hands at once, setting them against the wall on either side of her once more. 

“Whenever you’re ready, take your time.”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d last, but he wasn’t going to rush her either. Fennec glanced down at his fully erect cock, and seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

“Seems like a waste of hot water to just stand here though, doesn’t it?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Wait and see, boss.”

***

She wouldn’t keep him waiting long. She’d already come once, and try as he might to conceal it, his discomfort was plain on his face. She gently guided him until their positions were reversed, and sank to her knees in front of him.

“Shand, wait,” Boba said.

“Do you not want me to?”

She planted a slow kiss on his thigh, and looked up, waiting for an answer. Boba closed his eyes and nodded. Fennec wrapped her hand around his base and took him into her mouth. She smiled in satisfaction at the hiss of pleasure that escaped him, then began to move. 

Fennec fully understood why he liked to watch her come. There was something inherently erotic about watching someone find release, and knowing you were solely responsible for their bliss. She felt that thrill now as she heard Boba’s breath hitch, as he tangled his fingers into her hair and guided her rhythm. 

She liked that she was able to be vulnerable during sex, letting Boba assume a more dominating role. She trusted him, and it was a change from her need to be in control at all other times. But there was something to be said for her taking charge in these intimate situations too. As she took him deeper into her mouth and heard him groan her name, she felt a throbbing at her centre. She brought her free hand between her legs and gently stroked her clit.

“Fennec,” Boba panted. “Fennec, stop.”

She sat back on her heels immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stand up,” Boba said. “Want to come inside you.”

He helped her to her feet, then spun her back around and pressed her against the wall. She gasped, the contrast between the cold tile and the hot water making her heart race. He kissed her, coaxing her mouth open. Their tongues met, swirling together, and she moaned into his mouth as he palmed one of her breasts. She angled her hips forward, and hooked one leg behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders for support. He guided himself to her entrance, coating himself in her slick before pushing inside. 

Every nerve in Fennec’s body felt like it was on fire. The surging adrenaline and anxiety at the prospect of tomorrow, the stimulation of the hot water, the orgasm she’d already given herself, and now this. It was too much to take. As Boba fully sheathed himself inside her with a snap of his hips, she cried out.

“ _Boba!”_

“Quiet, Shand,” Boba said, taking his hand off her breast and covering her mouth. “You don’t want me to have to stop, do you?”

“Please,” she whimpered against his palm. “Please don’t stop.”

“Can you be quiet for me, then?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good girl.”

He pulled out slightly, then thrust back into her, and she moved her hips in response. Boba was so close, Fennec knew this wouldn’t last much longer. He moved his fingers off her mouth and onto her clit. He was pressing and circling frantically exactly the way Fennec liked while she kept her arms wrapped around him, her nails digging into his back. Fennec rested her head against the wall, rhythmic keening sighs escaping her lips, and fought to keep her eyes open. She wanted to watch Boba fall apart, knowing it was all because of her.

With a final thrust, he spilled inside her, but continued to tease her clit with his fingers. Only after she’d reached her own climax did he pull out. He always took such good care of her. 

The water had started to grow cold. Neither of them noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The water got cold and Fennec forgot to wash her hair. I wonder if she even packed shampoo?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You suspect Separatists,” he said, catching on.
> 
> “That, or the syndicates. Maybe both. Either way, I bet Menco see him as a threat.”
> 
> “Because they can’t control him?”
> 
> “Exactly. He’s got money and power in one of the biggest industries in the galaxy, and he doesn’t work for them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So 1. the chapter count has gone up to 18, but truly who knows if it will stay there
> 
> 2\. Many thanks to my friend beskar_kyber15 for answering all my technical questions about something in this chapter, and never once just texting me back with the phrase "google is free"

Fennec woke up alone. Which was strange, because Boba had definitely stayed the night. Their little prison warden had tried to protest, but it was amazing what a few - really, more than a few - credits could do to convince someone to look the other way. And to convince them to forget they’d heard anything. Based on the way the young guard was blushing and stammering when he spoke to them, he’d heard absolutely  _ everything _ the night before. The walls really were as thin as he’d said.

She woke up earlier than planned, when she felt a sudden sharp discomfort in her abdomen. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped, the sound muffled by the pillow into which she’d buried her face. She had rolled onto her stomach, which had been her preferred sleeping position prior to her operation. Though she was hardly aware of her cybernetics day to day, the area where technology met skin was still tender. She hadn’t slept on her stomach since the cybernetics were put in, but then again, she hadn’t slept alone since that day either. Wrapped up in Boba’s arms, with his chest supporting her back, she was perfectly happy on her side. But the lack of support from him now made her default to her old habits, and wake up in pain. 

A persistent patter on the window and the ceiling signalled that it was raining. She peered around the still dark room, and saw a familiar silhouette at the window, looking out at the gray, pre-dawn skies of Corellia. 

“Fett?” she asked groggily.

Boba turned away from the window, and returned to the bed, sitting down beside her.

“Did I wake you, Shand?”

“No,” Fennec laughed softly, wondering how he thought standing silently at the window could have woken her. “What were you doing?”

“Rain,” he said simply, laying a hand on her hip. “It rained all the time on Kamino when I was growing up. I haven’t seen it in years.” 

His voice sounded so sincere, it warmed Fennec’s heart. She lifted his hand off her hip and gently kissed his palm.

“It’s something we have to factor in for today,” she said, sitting up. “Terrain, visibility.”

“We can go early, check it out,” Boba offered. “Did you have a chance to research Morlow?”

“Last night, after you fell asleep.”

Fennec stood up and grabbed her datapad from where she’d left it on the table. She handed it to Boba so he could follow along. He pulled up her research and whistled, impressed with how thorough she’d been.

“Ris Morlow, entrepreneur, made his money in shipbuilding,” Fennc said. “Seems like it was the family business, his whole family have been here on Corellia working in the factories for generations.”

Boba cycled through the documents Fennec had pulled, while she tried to brush through her hair, ridiculously tangled after the previous nights exertions. 

“How did he suddenly become so rich?”

“Not sudden,” Fennec said, tearing through the last nasty tangle and arranging her hair in a twisted braid. “He actually started amassing wealth a few years after the Republic fell.”

She gave Boba a significant look.

“You suspect Separatists,” he said, catching on.

“That, or the syndicates. Maybe both. Either way, I bet Menco see him as a threat.”

“Because they can’t control him?”

“Exactly. He’s got money and power in one of the biggest industries in the galaxy, and he doesn’t work for them.”

Fennec finished dressing, making sure to fasten on her new leather cover for her cybernetics. She then voiced the one thing that had been bothering her. 

“One thing I can’t figure out. Why not try and bring him over to work for Menco? Why have him killed?”

She sat down next to Boba.

“And why bother getting an outside contractor to do it?”

***

They left the hotel shortly after. It hadn’t been easy getting their guard to let them leave. A well-placed threat of selling him out to Naarssk for letting them spend the night together was enough for him to let them leave, on the condition that they took a tracking device with them. They agreed to that easily enough. 

“He’s going to have us tailed anyway right?” Fennec asked Boba once they were enclosed in the turbolift.

“I’d be disappointed in him if he didn’t,” he replied, pocketing the tracker.

They were both wrapped in travelling cloaks to protect themselves from the weather. Fennec had reasoned that it also wouldn’t do for them to be caught on security feeds hours before an explosion, then to reappear at the same location when it actually happened. The cloaks, however, offered something of a disguise. It was still raining, so they pulled up their hoods and ventured out on foot before boarding a mag-lev train headed for the downtown area. Boba was grateful for the early hour. With so many citizens heading to work, it was easy for them to keep their heads down and blend into the crowd. Anyone actually out and about at this hour was still exhausted, and hardly paying attention to their surroundings. 

They went completely unnoticed as they disembarked near - but not directly at - Diadem Square. They pushed through the morning hustle and bustle. The crowd on the mag-lev had been a mix of human, Rodian, Twi’lek, Sullustan and even a couple of Besalisk making their way to work. Once they arrived at Diadem Square, it struck Boba that the crowd was made up almost exclusively of humans, with the exception of those employed in various service positions. Though it bothered him that the Empire’s xenophobia was still alive and well in some of the more well-to-do neighbourhoods of the galaxy, it worked to their advantage this time. It was unlikely anyone would notice two additional humans in all this.  But Diadem Square was larger than Boba had anticipated. 

“Did Naarssk say where exactly the transport would be. Along the major road, I suppose?”

“Suppose so, he never showed me a map.” Fennec shook her head. “There’s something off about all this, I can’t put my finger on it.”

“How do you want to do this?”

“Gonna use the scope,” Fennec said. “Any closer and I risk getting caught in it. Sniper rifle’s riskier, less room for error, but I’ve done it before.”

They agreed they needed an elevated vantage point, something little used and out of the way of any security feeds. Their answer came in the form of a cordoned off, burnt out shell of a building tucked in between two far newer looking ones. A sign out front indicated that the ruined structure was set for demolition sometime soon, but for today it would make a perfect hideout for Fennec. 

“Yeah, this’ll do,” she said, craning her neck to study the placement of the empty windows.

“You don’t need to go up?” Boba asked.

“Going in later today is already a risk. I don’t want to take the chance by doing it twice. Who knows who’s watching.”

Fennec still looked uneasy.

“What is it, Shand?”

“I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t have all the information. It’s-”

She cast about for the right words.

“I’m being asked to assassinate someone without a  _ reason. _ Most people want it done, it’s for a personal vendetta of some kind. But no matter what I researched last night, I couldn’t find a single connection between Morlow and the Menco. None.”

“Mutual acquaintances maybe?”

“Not that I could find.”

She shook her head again, and nervously fiddled with her braid.

“Let’s take a walk around the square,” Boba suggested. “Familiarize ourselves.” 

It wasn’t strictly necessary at this point. They’d found their stakeout location, and Boba had had his chance to assess the risks that rain presented to visibility and freedom of movement. He wasn’t concerned about the success of the assignment, but rather about Fennec herself, and how she was taking things. 

As they traveled along the square at a leisurely pace, Boba brushed against Fennec’s hand with his own, slowly so she would know it was deliberate. She responded by intertwining their fingers and squeezing. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this if I can help it,” she said finally. “Anything else I do, security detail or hired gun for the syndicates, theft, smuggling, all of it can be done with a crew. It pays well, there’s less risk.”

“Less risk?”

“You only need to outrun the rest of the crew, right?”

“Right.”

“But assassination. It’s just you and the target. All for someone else’s satisfaction. At least in bounty hunting, if you do it solo, you get to call most of the shots.”

Boba nodded. It was amazing, the facets they fashioned within the criminal life to justify the choices they made. 

Fennec stopped in front of a newer looking structure, located in pride of place within the square. The front was emblazoned with the name “Morlow”. A small crowd of journalists waited outside. 

“What’s this about?” she asked, pulling her hood tighter about her face. Boba copied her, taking extra care, as he never knew who might have encountered a clone during the war.

“Morlow Tower is being dedicated today,” explained a young woman standing nearby, clutching a handheld holorecorder. “The family paid to overhaul Diadem Square after the war and the riots. They were given a prime spot to set up their offices as a thank you.

Boba and Fennec thanked her, then hurried back the way they’d come.

“Naarssk failed to mention that,” Fennec hissed.

“There’s going to be extra security hanging around today. We’d better get back and grab our gear. We’ll want to set up early.”

“You can still back out,” she said quickly. “This is my fight, Fett, not yours. And things just got more complicated.”

“Not on your life, Shand.”

***

Naarssk was less than amused by their escapade into the city, and was waiting in Fennec’s room when they returned to the hotel a short while later. Their young, human minder was nowhere to be seen, and two angry-looking Wookies were standing guard in the hallway in his place. Fennec hoped nothing drastic had happened to him, but she wasn’t especially optimistic.

“Just  _ what  _ did you think you were doing?” Naarssk snapped the moment they walked in through the door. 

“Doing your job for you,” Fennec retorted. “I didn’t realize it was standard Menco practice to send out assassins with half the information. Remind me never to take a job with you again.”

“You’ll be lucky to make it out of this one alive, if you and your… _ friend _ …keep trying my patience.”

He glanced significantly at Boba and Fennec felt a chill down her spine at his insinuation. Her distress must have been obvious, because Naarssk laughed.

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out? Despite your attempts to bribe him, your guard was feeling _very_ talkative when I returned."

Either the young man's loyalty ran deep, or he’d been threatened, possibly harmed. Fennec hoped it was the former. Regardless, Naarssk now knew about her and Boba, there was no doubt about that. This was her fault, yet again. She’d wanted one night of tension-relieving fun, and in letting her guard down, she’d handed the Menco something they could use to hurt her. Or worse, hurt Boba. She needed to change the subject, before Naarssk decided Boba made an effective bargaining chip to ensure her compliance.

“Did you know Morlow Tower was being dedicated today?”

“Of course we did,” Naarssk said, shrugging. 

“You realize that’s going to mean additional press in Diadem Square?”

“We’re counting on it,” Naarssk grinned.

That scared Fennec. This happened more often than not with assassinations. It wasn’t enough for the job to be done, a message of some kind had to be sent. The message was usually unclear to everyone but the sender and the recipient, but it made things significantly more complicated for those like Fennec who were caught in the middle. 

Naarssk ordered them to gather their necessary gear. They were to meet downstairs in 20 minutes, where they would be transported to the general vicinity of the square. 

He swept out of the room, barking orders at the Wookies to drag Boba and Fennec to the turbolift if they hadn’t emerged by the appointed time. 

Fennec and Boba stood in the silence of the room, alone for the first time since that morning. 

“Well,” Boba said lightly, “there’s a lot we could do in twenty-hey!”

He was cut off by Fennec burying her face in his neck and wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Shand, it’s ok. Hey, hey. Fennec. It’s going to be fine.”

He ran one hand soothingly up and down her back, while the other cradled her head.

“So many things could go wrong,” Fennec muttered into his shoulder. “And if they do, they’ll come for you as a way to punish me.”

“They won’t,” Boba said.

“They  _ will _ . You saw Naarssk, he knows about us.”

“So what if he does? He can try, but it doesn’t mean he’ll succeed.”

If Boba felt that was helping her, he could not have been more mistaken. Fennec found herself wondering if the overconfidence was a clone trait, or if this was just the kind of man she was attracted to. 

“Cutter used to say that,” she whispered, holding him tighter. “He used to tell me that no one could get to him. And he was right. Until one day he wasn’t.”

Boba held on for a moment, then released her and moved her back so he could look her in the eye.

“Listen to me, Shand. That was a long time ago. You and Cutter were young, and inexperienced. You didn’t know as much as you do now. You were a scared kid, not the legendary Fennec Shand.”

He paused.

“And while I know Cutter’s training was exemplary, he was raised and trained as a soldier. I was raised by a Mandalorian and have been living my life as a bounty hunter. Our experience is not the same. I promise it won’t be like last time.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have faith,  _ cyar’ika _ . You should too.”

He kissed her forehead and headed next door to collect his belongings. Fennec remained standing in the centre of the room, stunned into silence. 

_ Cyar’ika. _

Fennec didn’t speak fluent Mando’a by any stretch. But after years of travelling to all manner of places, she knew key phrases in many languages. She also knew Boba never spoke unless he meant every word coming out of his mouth.

He’d called her  _ cyar’ika _ .

_ Cyar’ika. _

Beloved. 

***

_ Cyar’ika. _

It hadn’t been his intention to call her that. He had no idea if she even knew what it meant. He hadn’t waited around to find out. But it felt right, in that moment. He hadn’t ever felt like this about anyone before. Whatever idea of love he thought he knew when he was younger, all of it paled in comparison to what Fennec made him feel. It was all-consuming and intoxicating. But he didn’t envy her past with Cutter. Not only for the tragic way it ended, but because he couldn’t imagine loving someone so completely, and having it torn away. 

She said nothing to him in the turbolift, nor in the transport that carried them towards Diadem Square. She likely hadn’t understood the term at all then. Good. She didn't need that haunting her thoughts when she needed to concentrate, and she likely didn't feel the same way for him anyway. Cutter's death clearly still haunted her. Besides Fennec was the type to speak her mind. If she understood what he'd said, he would have expected her to soundly put him in his place, or to gently remind him that they were only having a little fun together, and there was no need to call anyone “beloved”. Her concern for him, understandably, lay in her not wanting his death on her hands. It wasn’t love. 

The transport dropped them off as close to Diadem Square as it could get. The upcoming dedication had drawn quite the crowd. Boba and Fennec disembarked. He wore his black Tusken cloak once again, hood up and weapons strapped across his back, while she’d donned her thigh-length black coat and wore her helmet for good measure. They skirted the crowd, seeking the abandoned building from earlier. They nearly missed it, the demolition sign only catching Fennec’s eye at the last second, bringing them to a halt. There was such a crowd gathered in front of the building, it would be impossible to enter unnoticed. 

“What do we do?” Fennec whispered. He could feel anxiety radiating off her. 

“Let’s try the back?”

A narrow alleyway two buildings over led to a run-down lot, which fortunately did connect to the building they sought. Unfortunately, four black-and-red clad humans waited for them there as well.

“What did I tell you?” the tallest of them said to the others. “I knew they’d come back.”

Boba drew his gaffi stick and Fennec her blaster. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” the lone woman in their group began to say, drawing her weapon. Fennec shot her in the chest and she fell where she stood. 

“Anyone else?” she said. Boba could hear the subtle note of panic in her voice. The hour was drawing nearer and she still needed to set up. 

“Go, Shand. I got this.”

She looked at him, her eyes barely visible through the slit in her helmet. Boba nodded reassuringly and assumed a fighting stance. She bolted for the back door, and one of the men was foolish enough to try and follow. Boba killed him first, swinging the sharp end of the stick directly into his gut. Hearing a shuffling behind him, he brought the curved end to bear directly onto his attackers skull, dropping him to the ground. He didn’t get a chance to dispatch the tall man who had spoken first. Once he’d seen the direction the fight was taking, he took off down the alley. Boba was just debating using the back door to guard the main floor of the building to keep Fennec safe, when the tall man returned, accompanied by two more humans and four Zabrak males, their horns jutting out menacingly from their heads.

_ He must be in charge _ , he figured, his thought confirmed moments later as the man waved his hand and sent the 6 newcomers rushing towards Boba.

The humans were clumsy, falsely assuming Boba’s age would be a factor in their favour. They were wrong. The Zabrak were far smarter about it. 

These four were clearly used to working together.  They moved in perfect unison, surrounding Boba. Most carried vibroblades, and one carried a long staff but all of them wielded their weapons like they’d been well trained in their use. Boba parried their jabs easily, but with so many fighting so close, he struggled to keep an eye on all of them at once. The one carrying a staff knocked Boba in the back of the legs bringing him to his knees. He tried to maintain mobility while on the ground, but it was proving difficult. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless as to leave his back exposed. All one of them would have to do is slip behind him and slit his throat. He wouldn’t put it past them, as they circled him with murder in their eyes.

The cheering of the crowd was suddenly cut off by an explosion that rocked the entire plaza, then changed immediately to screams. The Zabrak were momentarily distracted, giving Boba the opportunity he sought. He leapt to his feet, and killed three of the the four warriors in rapid succession. He stabbed the fourth so emphatically, his gaffi stick lodged in his back. Boba tugged once to retrieve it, but more effort was required. Movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to abandon his weapon momentarily. He instead retrieved his cycler rifle off his back and shot the tall man in the leg, bringing him to his knees. Despite the pain, the man managed to draw his blaster.

“Your boss is dead, it’s too late to get more help,” Boba said. He quickly aimed the rifle at the man’s hand and fired. He screamed in pain and dropped his blaster. Boba aimed the rifle for the man’s head next, intending to finish him off.

“He’s not dead,” the man said, conviction shining through his pain-tinged voice so clearly, Boba lowered the rifle slightly.

“What do you mean? You hear that? This is because Morlow’s transport was destroyed.”

“It was,” he replied through gritted teeth. “But he’s not dead.”

“I’ve had enough,” Boba said, raising the rifle again.

“Don’t believe me? Check the holonet. He’s on Lothal on business. They reported on it this morning.”

Panic gripped Boba then. What had they done wrong? He needed the facts.

“Who was it then? Who was driving?”

The man told him, and for his efforts, Boba put him out of his misery. 

He raced up the darkened, dilapidated stairs. Even inside, the air was thick with panic and screams. He could smell smoke, and heard the sounds of sirens as medical vehicles raced towards the explosion. He took the steps two at a time, calling for Fennec. About 5 stories up, he finally heard her respond.

“Over here, boss!”

He ran out of the stairwell and into the light. He was greeted with the sight of Fennec crouched in the corner, away from the empty window. When she saw him, she shot to her feet.

“You’re here. Good, let’s go before they check the holocams and start looking this way.”

She started to lead the way, but Boba couldn’t bring himself to move. Catching on, she turned around to see why he wasn’t following her. She had no idea. She was so blissfully ignorant, and he knew this would devastate her. There were few moral lines in the life of a mercenary, and she’d crossed one in a big way. How would she react knowing the truth of what she’d done?

“Fett, what’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”

She rushed forward to check him, but he took her hands in his before she could.

“Shand,” he said gravely. “Morlow’s still alive.”

“No he isn’t.” She looked confused. “No one could survive that blast.”

“Listen to me, Shand. Morlow is on Lothal. I have it on good authority.”

“So who…?”

“His son,” Boba said quietly. “His son was in that transport.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *toot toot* all aboard the pain train


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There’s clearly been a mistake.”
> 
> Fennec walked briskly towards the stairwell, vaguely aware that Boba was hurrying to catch up to her. 
> 
> “Mistake or not, Shand, a kid is dead. It doesn’t matter if Naarssk’s information was faulty-”
> 
> “I told you something about this didn’t feel right. His mistake wasn’t that his information was faulty. His mistake was thinking he could pull one over on me.”

Fennec’s ears were ringing, and it had little to do with the nearby explosion. The ground below her feet rocked, and threatened to come up and meet her, independently of the turmoil outside. She shook her head. It couldn’t be true.

“That’s not funny, Fett,” she said, her voice shaking. 

“I agree,” Boba said. “It isn’t.”

Fennec removed her helmet. She couldn’t breathe. She let it drop to the filthy floor, and sought out Boba’s eyes. She still couldn’t believe what he was saying to her.

“No,” she said, in utter denial. But the look on his face said far more than words ever could. “No,” she whispered again. “No, no, no.”

She couldn’t stand. She fell to her knees and doubled over, fingers clutching her hair. A wail of pure anguish and frustration burst from her lips, utterly lost in the chaos and noise outside. It felt like the inside of her head was screaming. Boba was beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms. He held onto her tightly, not letting go when she screamed into his chest, or started fidgeting wildly. Even as she pounded her fist into him a couple of times, his grip remained strong. He simply sat there stroking her back until her screams had devolved into quiet sobs.

“Shand?” Boba said. “Shand. We have to go. It’s only a matter of time before they come looking this way.”

She lifted her face from his chest. Her cheeks were tearstained, and she could feel her features were swollen. But she didn’t care. All that mattered now was the cold fury that had seized her, and invaded every part of her body.

She stood up suddenly, snatched up her helmet and slammed it back on. Boba got to his feet quickly too.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice like ice.

“Fennec-”

“I need to speak to Naarssk.”

“We need to get off-planet as soon as possible.”

“Once I see Naarssk. There’s clearly been a mistake.”

Fennec walked briskly towards the stairwell, vaguely aware that Boba was hurrying to catch up to her. 

“Mistake or not, Shand, a kid is dead. It doesn’t matter if Naarssk’s information was faulty-”

“I told you something about this didn’t feel right. His mistake wasn’t that his information was faulty. His mistake was thinking he could pull one over on me.”

If Fennec had been in the right state of mind to really hear herself, she might have been terrified at the lack of emotion in her voice. She wondered if this was how Boba felt. Terrified. He said nothing to her as they exited the building through the front and fell in with the rushing crowd. Once they’d reached a quieter street, they hailed a taxi that sped them back towards the hotel. 

Though Boba still said nothing, remaining silent for the duration of the ride, Fennec grew angrier the closer they got. The holonet had already picked up the news, and broadcast it on any available screens throughout Coronet City. Images of Morlow’s son filled her field of vision, some family photos, some from school. 18 years old, bound for the University of Chandrila. His family’s pride and joy. And Fennec had taken all that from him. She felt sick. 

The taxi had barely come to a stop before Fennec leapt out, Boba hot on her heels. She stormed past the security at the front of the hotel, and headed straight into the turbolift. When they made it to their corridor, Fennec strode right up to one of the guards, and drew her blaster.

“Naarssk. Where is he?”

The Wookiee roared, threatened by the sudden appearance of a weapon.

“I’m not interested in killing you,” Fennec said in a deadly tone. “But I will. Where. Is. Naarssk.”

The Wookiee directed her to the larger suite at the end of the hall. She shot the locking mechanism and kicked the door open. She swept into the room, weapon still drawn, and was greeted by the sight of several blasters pointed in her direction. Behind the dozen or so armed thugs sat Naarssk, coolly reading something off a datapad.

“Well done Shand,” he drawled. “They said you were efficient, but even I didn’t expect this.”

“Did you know?”

Naarssk cocked his head.

“Yes, I did.”

“Then why?” she bit out.

“Put that down before you get hurt.”

“Unless you want to see how _efficient_ I can be, WHY?”

Naarssk stood and slowly walked towards her, in a lazy almost leisurely way.

“I didn’t realize the employer owed the employee any kind of explanation. Well,” his lizard eyes flicked over to Boba momentarily. “Perhaps you and your, ahem, _boss_ have a different arrangement. So unless you’d like to make the same arrangement with me-”

Fennec armed the blaster and aimed for his head. A hand wrapped around her other arm suddenly.

“Shand,” Boba whispered. “Shand it’s not worth it. We’re outnumbered. Even if you kill him we won’t make it out alive.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped.

“Yes, you do. Let’s go.”

He all but pulled her out of the room. The last thing she saw was Naarssk’s sneering face. 

Boba led Fennec back to her room and shut the door. She disarmed the blaster and set it on the bed with trembling hands.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Because they would have killed you. There were too many of them for us to take alone.”

“You’re supposed to be the galaxy’s greatest bounty hunter. Guess you’ve just been out of it too long.”

“That was low.” 

“You took away my chance to…to….”

“To what, Shand?”

Fennec buried her face in her hands and let out a roar of frustration.

“Every time…EVERY time someone uses me as a tool for their own purposes, innocent people get hurt. It becomes more than a _job_ . It becomes sick, and twisted and _personal_ . And _every single time_ , it’s MY life on the line. MY humanity. It happened today when Naarssk sent me out to kill a kid, knowing only the most depraved mercenary would do that.”

Her voice broke, she sounded utterly defeated.

“It happened when Jabba made me shoot the love of my life. Just to soothe the blow to his own pride and ego.”

Fennec sat on the floor and gathered her knees into her chest.

“I found out Jabba’s dead, and I wasn’t _unhappy_ about it. I’m glad he’s dead. But…”

“You wish you’d been the one to do it?”

“Yeah. It’s not the same with Naarssk, I didn’t even know the-” her voice dropped to a whisper, “-the kid. But I thought that if I could kill Naarssk now, it would make me feel better about Jabba. Like I’d, I don’t know, avenged Cutter’s death somehow.”

Boba sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, feeling too drained to cry, or be angry. All she felt was hollow. The image of Morlow’s son kept swimming in front of her eyes. So young, full of promise. She’d been like that once. Cutter had been like that once, and she’d been responsible for his death too. 

The very thought of her long-dead love made her stomach twist. She’d given herself permission to get involved with another man, to even develop feelings for him. She was lonely, and Cutter wouldn’t want her to spend her life alone. 

But he wouldn’t have wanted _this_ for her. He hated the life they’d lived on the fringes of the law, it went against his training and principles as a clone trooper. The rest they managed to rationalize, but the assassinations never sat easy with them. They’d been careful about which jobs they accepted. They would never assassinate the innocent, certainly never the young. She hadn’t prepared enough. Hadn’t done her research. Would he be disappointed in her?

 _Oh Cutter,_ she thought, as she rested her head on Boba’s shoulder. _What must you think of me?_

***

They remained where they were for the rest of the day. Despite the urgency he’d felt before, Boba didn’t see how he could get Fennec out of the room, much less offworld. She had completely shut down. Sitting on the floor had become uncomfortable, so Boba moved Fennec onto the bed. She lay on her side and stared blankly at the wall, the fight completely gone out of her. She eventually fell asleep, wrapped Boba’s Tusken robe since he hadn’t wanted to move her a second time. 

One of the Wookiee guards - the one Fennec had threatened - slipped Boba some additional ration packs and water to give her. Boba found the concern surprising, considering the circumstances. A hushed conversation by the door revealed that the Wookiee, who went by Vruugerra, had been pressed into Menco’s service and had also been forced to do terrible things against his will. 

“Will they keep us here too?” Boba asked, the possibility dawning on him. They hadn’t been contacted about transport off of Corellia yet. Was it possible they’d had Fennec kill that boy to blackmail them into remaining in Menco’s service.

Vruugerra confirmed Boba’s suspicions. If they hadn’t made arrangements to take them off Corellia, then there was reason to worry. 

“Does Menco keep their transports at one of the nearby spaceports? If they do, we could commandeer one. One for you too, if you help us.”

Vruugerra considered. He knew where they kept their smaller transports, and reasoned that having him with them would lend some legitimacy to their movements. Up until they chose to actually steal a ship, that is. The Wookiee agreed to help.

They would need coded key cylinders, according to Vruugerra, and though he wasn’t trusted with any, he knew for a fact they could be found in the suite. 

Boba was left alone to brainstorm a means of getting them into the suite, but he first went to check on Fennec. 

“Shand,” he whispered, squeezing her arm gently. “You need to eat something, come on.”

She half-opened her eyes, and for a moment seemed to forget the horrible events of that afternoon. She actually _smiled_ at him. But he could see the exact moment it all came flooding back, washing any trace of happiness off her face. 

“Don’t, Fett. There’s no point. I won’t keep it down.”

She had a point. She’d already sat up once earlier, heaving stomach bile into a trash bucket.

“Some water, then,” he said, holding out one of the canteens Vruugerra had brought. 

She took it from him, took a single sip for his benefit, then handed it back and firmly closed her eyes again.

There was a commotion outside, voices passing by. When they’d quieted again, there was a quick tap at the door. Vruugerra poked his head in to say that they’d all gone out to celebrate the Menco victory, leaving the suite empty. It was now or never. 

Boba was ensuring their gear would be ready for an immediate departure when he remembered something he’d brought with him from Tatooine. A little tool that nevertheless packed quite the punch. Reesa, his little Weequay friend, had been experimenting with pocket size remote detonators, no bigger than Boba’s thumb. While hers did little more than pop like a firecracker, Boba had taken to tinkering with them until they did substantially more than that. He grabbed a few, then followed the Wookiee down the hall. 

The other guard had gone to join the festivities, so they were alone as they made their way down the corridor. The door leaned against its frame, none of the goons actually caring enough to fix it. Boba shoved it open and entered alone, Vruugerra acting as sentry. The suite of rooms looked as though rancor had torn through it. How was he ever going to find a key cylinder in here?

“Hey!” a voice said. Boba looked up from the pile of various technological tchotchke he’d been sorting through. A lone Rodian wearing Menco colours stood across the room, blaster drawn. Boba spotted another unattended weapon on the table and snatched it up, pointing it directly at the Rodian.

“I wouldn’t,” he continued, his bulbous eyes narrowing. He raised a small communication device. “They haven’t gone far, I can have them back here in 5 minutes.”

“Go ahead, I encourage it,” Boba said through gritted teeth. As he spoke, he dropped one of the detonators into the pile. 

For all his bravado, the Rodian seemed hesitant to actually call anyone back. He shifted stance, moving his blaster arm closer to Boba as though that would help the accuracy.

“I mean it,” the Rodian said. As he shifted stance, Boba noticed the glint of metal in his pocket. _A key cylinder_. He couldn’t waste anymore time. He fired several shots.

The Rodian slumped over one of the once-oppulent sofas. Boba scattered the remaining detonators, dug the cylinder out of the deceased goon’s pocket, and grabbed his communicator as well.

“Let’s go,” he said to Vruugerra, who’d moved across the threshold of the room once the blasterfire had started. They raced down the corridor back to Fennec’s room. She’d apparently heard the commotion as well, because by the time they arrived, she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What’s going on?”

“Grab your things Shand, we’re leaving.”

The seriousness of it all was written so plainly on his face that she sprung into action at once. If she was anything like he was, idleness gave her plenty of time to drown in her own thoughts. A clear task and objective was the perfect remedy.

Vruugerra escorted them downstairs, his blaster held aloft for good measure. Before they entered the turbolift, he took the communicator from Boba and contacted Naarssk, telling the crew to return at once, then dropped the device on the floor and crushed it. He barked directions at one of the taxi droids waiting outside the hotel. The three of them boarded the large ground speeder, and the droid drove them around the corner as instructed. They waited until they saw the Menco crew returning, rushing for the turbolift. Boba gave the go-ahead to the droid and they were suddenly speeding towards one of the cheaper spaceports in Coronet City.

He’d calculated the amount of time it took to get from the lobby to the suite upstairs. Once the allotted time had passed, he waited an extra 30 seconds for good measure, and activated the detonators. The noise and traffic of Coronet City was loud, but not loud enough to hide the sound.

“Fett-” Fennec started to say.

“Don’t worry about it, Shand.”

“What did- What did you _do?”_

He hesitated. She harboured no love for Menco, he knew that. But they were partners, they had agreed. Would she be upset that he’d carried out an entire plan without consulting her?

“Fett,” she said again, more seriously than he’d ever heard. “What did you do?”

So he told her. He told her every detail of the plan. She followed along without issue until the detonators came up. As he told her about that particular aspect, every muscle in her body went still, and her lips pressed together.

“I see,” was all she said as Boba finished his story. He couldn’t figure out what had come over her. She clearly hadn’t disapproved of his making a plan without her, so what was the issue? Did she not care for his use of detonators? 

He didn’t have time to ponder the question any further: they’d arrived at the spaceport. The combination of key cylinder and Vruugerra’s presence meant no one questioned them as they boarded two small hyperspace-capable transports. The Wookiee bid them farewell from his boarding ramp, and was off without further ado. Boba was glad that a little good had come from all this, though he could not for the life of him figure out what was bothering Fennec.

They sat down in the cockpit. He guided the ship into the air, and she input the coordinates for Tatooine, all in total silence. Once they had hit hyperspace, she unfastened her restraints and stood. She selected one of the small bunks, took her bag in and shut the door behind her. In the deathly silence of the ship, Boba could hear the lock engage.

He wanted to give her space. The day had been far rougher for her than it had for him. But after a couple of hours, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He approached her door and listened carefully. He could hear her moving around inside. 

_Not asleep then_ , he thought as he knocked.

“Shand. Shand we need to talk.”

She opened the door almost immediately. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her beautiful face was swollen from crying. 

“About what?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

She scoffed and pushed past him. He followed her into the galley, and stood silently by the door, with his arms crossed. She rooted around until she found a bottle of water and a ration pack. She gulped a little down and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Boba hadn’t moved, and Fennec, accepting that he wasn’t leaving, sighed and set her drink down.

“How could you do that to me?” Fennec said, sounding hurt.

“I don’t understand what it is I’ve-”

“You killed them. All of them.”

“You were ready to do the same!”

He couldn’t believe it. Was she actually sympathizing with the Menco now?

“Exactly!” she said. “I would have killed them all, and you stopped me!”

“Wha- Fennec! We were outnumbered!”

“Is this because of what I said to you before?” she spat. “Being an out of practice bounty hunter? Had to go prove me wrong?”

“That’s not fair. They would have followed us.”

“You didn’t have to kill them. You could have _let_ them follow us.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

Her eyes were wild with fury. She looked ready to kill _him._ Boba was certain if the risk of hull damage wasn’t extremely high, she would have shot him where he stood.

“Naarssk,” she said, her voice shaking, “hired me to kill a teenager. He gave me no chance to refuse.”

“And for that, he deserves to live?”

“For that, I DESERVED TO BE THE ONE TO KILL HIM!”

She covered her mouth with one hand and turned away from him, using her other hand to support herself on the counter. He could hear a muffled sob escape, and saw her chest convulse. 

Of course.

How could he be so stupid.

Their conversation that afternoon came flooding back to him at once. She’d wanted to kill Naarssk and he’d only stopped her because she wouldn’t survive the attempt. 

He’d taken away her chance for revenge, her chance to try and reclaim some of her humanity by making up for what she’d done. 

Making up for a death with more death might sound twisted to the rest of the galaxy, but for people like them, the distinctions they made were how they slept at night. And he’d taken that from her twice.

“Shand,” he began, crossing the space and laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, removing her hand from her mouth and holding it up. He took a step back. 

“Revenge is…it’s never what you think it’s going to be, Shand. It doesn’t bring closure, or satisfaction, it just leaves you so much worse off.”

She straightened up and closed the distance between them. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“It should have been my choice, Fett. You shouldn’t have made it for me.”

“In truth, I hadn’t considered that, my only thought was to get out undetected."

Fennec shook her head and looked away.

"But I also wish someone had been there to make that choice for me,” Boba continued.

“For you?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. She might still be mad at him, but nothing ever took precedence over her curiosity. He tentatively opened his arms and she stepped into them, wrapping her own around his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding her close and burying his face in her hair. “For whatever that’s worth.”

“Me too,” she said. “It wasn’t reasonable-”

“No one is asking you for reasonable right now, Shand.” He took her chin in his hand. “But remember, I’m on your side. _Always_. We’re partners after all.”

“Partners,” she repeated. 

Had it only been yesterday that he’d kissed her last? It felt like an eternity ago. What would she do, he wondered, if he kissed her now?

He leaned towards her, determined to find out.

"Boba," she whispered. "I-"

The shipboard computer blipped loudly. Someone was hailing them. Rather urgently by the sound of things.

“Corellian Shuttle,” came a clipped voice. “Identify yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Bonnec can't come to the phone right now...Fennec's got something to say


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine,” Fennec said at last. “We’ll do it.”
> 
> “No no,” Alianna said. “Just you, Ms. Shand. We have a crew we will send you in with, they’re meeting us above Tatooine. Once we depart, please resume your old course and we shall rendezvous there. 
> 
> “You don’t understand,” Fennec said. “We operate as a team, he and I.”
> 
> “Not this time, I’m afraid,” Alianna said with a cold smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love you showed the last chapter! I'm so excited for where this story is going, and I can't wait to share it with all of you!
> 
> I also make no excuses for the second half of this chapter. I'm back to my smutty ways (and if you can believe it, I actually cut some out)
> 
> and ON THAT NOTE: you may notice the rating went from M too E. This isn't because anything is getting more graphic, but just because there's a LOT more smut than I'd originally anticipated! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The sudden hail brought Fennec back to reality, with all the gentleness of an ice-cold bucket of water. Through the panic of being hailed by an unknown entity there was the faintest glimmer of relief. She’d felt her feelings for Boba growing exponentially, and she’d been ready to lay them all out right then and there. 

It was a terrible idea. They’d just had a huge fight, and she was still too emotionally raw. Yes, it was better not to say anything at all.

“Did you hear them hail us before?” Boba asked, looking concerned.

“No.”

“How are they even hailing us? We’re in hyperspace.”

“Corellian shuttle,” came the clipped voice again. “This is your second and final warning.”

“Let’s see what they want,” Fennec said, hurrying to the cockpit to respond.

She consulted the shuttle’s records, then keyed in a command at the communication station.

“This is Corellian Shuttle _Brigand 61-02_ , who is this?” Fennec demanded.

“Ah,” said the voice on the other end in amusement. “How fortunate. I assume I’ve reached the legendary Fennec Shand directly?”

The look of surprise Boba shot her was a mirror of her own expression. 

“You haven’t answered my question,” Fennec said. “Who am I speaking with?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Kindly drop out of hyperspace at the following coordinates.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at Boba. As if sensing her thoughts, the voice added:

“Ms. Shand, I encourage you to comply with our request. Failure to do so will result in drastic consequences. None of us wants that.”

The computer read out a series of coordinates, followed by a second series of numbers: the original coordinates Fennec had input.

“Does this mean they’re tracking us?” Boba asked, reading over her shoulder.

“It must. Let’s see what they want, I guess. We’d better-”

“Yep,” Boba agreed, without letting her finish. From the corner of her eye, she could see him picking up his weapons. She punched in the new series of coordinates, then went to similarly arm herself while Boba sat in the pilot’s seat and carefully guided the ship out of hyperspace.

Fennec had just slipped the last knife into her boot, and decided to leave her rifle in her little bunk when Boba called out.

“Shand! You’re going to want to see this.”

She rejoined him and followed his line of sight to a large, well-appointed cruiser that had materialized right in front of them. 

“Ah, there you are, Ms. Shand!” came the voice once more. “Prepare to be boarded.”

They didn’t have time to respond before a small-two person pod detached from the cruiser and flew straight for them. They drew their weapons and waited by the entrance hatch. The minutes seemed to last an eternity. Fennec wondered how much more tension she could be expected to take in a day.

Finally, the hatch hissed open and in walked two beings: a sandy-haired human woman, flanked by a large Zabrak male who was armed to the teeth. 

“Fennec Shand?” the woman asked, revealing herself to be the one who’d spoken with them earlier. 

“Who wants to know?” Fennec asked, not taking her eyes off the woman’s face. Boba had tensed beside her, no doubt sizing up the Zabrak, who seemed to want an excuse to try out some of his weapons.

“Of course, where are my manners? My name is Alianna, and the organization I serve-”

“Crimson Dawn,” Fennec said, cutting her off. She’d finally taken a proper look at the Zabrak and recognized the brand burned into his forearm. When her gaze returned to Alianna, she noticed the woman nervously pulling her own sleeves further down. 

“Indeed,” Alianna said. “Now that’s out of the way, I’m afraid we have quite a serious matter to discuss, Ms. Shand.”

“Can’t imagine why. I finished my last job for Crimson Dawn. And I was very clear that I’d remain an _independent contractor_.” Fennec stressed those final two words. They’d tried to press her and Cutter into service, going so far as to heat up the brand. And had Fennec and Cutter not been quite so persuasive with their blasters, they might have succeded.

“Mmm. Circumstances have recently changed, however. We find ourselves in a bit of a bind.”

“Why is that my problem?”

“Crimson Dawn has…found itself in, shall we say, dire financial straits of late. We were, in fact, looking forward to entering into a financial partnership with a certain Ris Morlow of Corellia.”

Fennec’s heart plummeted.

“I see by your stricken expression you are aware of the tragedy that has recently befallen Mr. Morlow. Well, as you can imagine, such a devastating loss has made him reluctant to engage in activities with those of us who operate on the, well, fringes of legitimate business.”

“Still don’t see what this has to do with me,” Fennec said, though her voice carried no conviction.

“Truly? Well, allow me to explain. When our agent on Corellia reported back to us, he said that the assassination of Morlow’s son would be carried out by no less a person than Fennec Shand herself. Incidentally, that agent failed to report in after the incident. As did our other forces on the ground.”

“ _That_ was my doing,” Boba said quickly. Fennec’s eyes darted over to him. Was he hoping to pull the focus away from her? It was too late for that, she’d ended up right in the sightline of the criminal underworld yet again.

“Ah, and this must be your associate. I’d heard you travelled with a former clone. How lovely that you’re still together.”

Fennec felt a wave of heartbreak wash over her, but schooled her face into a neutral expression. 

“What do you want?”

“To put it simply, Ms. Shand, Crimson Dawn would like you to make up the financial loss we’ve suffered by losing Mr. Morlow’s assistance. 

“You want money, I don’t have it. Might as well shoot me.”

“We would never do anything so crass!” Alianna exclaimed, looking horrified at the very idea. “We will, however, require your services in acquiring a rather expensive spice shipment from a well-to-do purveyor in Hutt Space.

“You want me to haul cargo,” Fennec said dryly. 

“Mmm in a manner of speaking. The current owner is not currently inclined to part with their shipment without receiving payment. We’re hoping you can convince him otherwise.”

“Piracy then.”

“As you say.”

“And if I refuse?” 

Alianna shrugged.

“We collect the bounty on you. And on your friend here. I’m sure we can match him to some clone or other with a high enough bounty to meet our financial needs.”

Fennec and Boba exchanged a proper look. They hadn’t recognized him properly, which was a minor miracle. But regardless, they were well and truly stuck. 

“Fine,” Fennec said at last. “We’ll do it.”

“No no,” Alianna said. “Just you, Ms. Shand. We have a crew we will send you in with, they’re meeting us above Tatooine. Once we depart, please resume your old course and we shall rendezvous there. 

“You don’t understand,” Fennec said. “We operate as a team, he and I.”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Alianna said with a cold smile. 

***

Boba was certain that despite the cool demeanour she presented, Fennec was terrified on the inside. 

“He’s hardly a prisoner,” Alianna told Fennec. “He is welcome to remain with us and await your return, or to go about his business on Tatooine.”

That was an unusually charitable move for a gang so notorious. He was positive they’d set a tail on him as soon as they reached Tatooine, and would kill him if they thought Fennec failed them in any way. At least this way he could be prepared.

“Just this once.” Fennec said. She punctuated her seriousness by raising her blaster. 

“Of course, Ms. Shand. We’re only looking to make things right, after all.”

After agreeing to brief Fennec more fully on arrival at Tatooine, Alianna and her silent guard left the way they’d come. Boba and Fennec returned to the cockpit to watch the little pod fly away. Once it was safely ensconced in the cruiser, they reset their coordinates for their original destination and jumped back into hyperspace.

Fennec leaned back in her seat and said nothing for a long while.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, finally.

“For what?”

“Getting you dragged into this mess. My mess. Again.” 

“Partners, Shand,” he reminded her. “ _Our_ mess.”

She nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes. She stood up and returned to the galley, and he followed closely behind. 

She dug out a second ration pack for him and they ate in silence. She looked so burdened, and it broke his heart. She threw her trash into the little receptacle and made to leave, but Boba stopped her and pulled her into his arms.

“What’s wrong, Fennec? The truth.”

“Boba,” she said into his chest. “I’m scared. It’s been me on my own for so long. I never had to take anything else into consideration. Never had anyone to come back to…”

“It’ll be fine, you’ll do this one job for them and I’ll be waiting for you at home when you return.”

“They’re going to have you followed, you know. It’s how they operate.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Boba laughed. “It’s fine. And look on the bright side. They didn’t recognize me! Not really.”

Had they realized Boba Fett stood in their midst, and that they had not one but _two_ well-known mercenaries in their grasp, they would have likely just claimed the bounties on both of them and called it a day. Far less effort, for a guaranteed double payday. 

“That’s true,” Fennec said quietly. “But what if-”

“Fennec,” Boba said. “There’s no point in worrying about any of it now.”

“I can’t help it.”

Boba smirked. 

“I bet I can distract you,” he said, before he leaned forward and kissed her. For a split second, he worried his offer would be soundly rebuffed. Instead, Fennec responded to his kiss hungrily, and allowed him to carry her off to the largest bunk on the shuttle.

They kissed furiously as they made quick work of removing their clothing.

“I’m going to miss you so much while you’re away,” Boba growled as they fell to the bed. “Gonna miss every single part of you.”

He roughly pinched one of her nipples. Fennec let out a yelp that very quickly morphed into a sound of pure pleasure.

They continued to kiss each other frantically. He rocked his hips into hers, rubbing against her most sensitive spot with his hardening length. They groaned in unison with every motion. She slipped her hand around to grab onto his back, but he moved them away and held both of her wrists with one of his hands.

“I don’t think so, Shand,” he said with a wicked grin. “This is _me_ distracting _you._ Keep your hands to yourself.”

He let go of her hands, trusting her to keep them where he’d left them, and began to kiss his way down her body. 

“I’m getting my fill of you tonight. Something needs to hold me over while you’re away.”

He brought his mouth to the apex of her thighs. He parted her folds with his fingers and licked a broad stripe right along her centre. The sound she made was obscene, and it only made him grow harder. He brought his mouth to her clit and began to suck, eliciting the same loud moans from her. She brought her hands down to coax him on, and he stopped at once.

Fennec looked down at him in utter betrayal and frustration.

“What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself? Don’t make me get the binders, Shand.”

“You have binders?” she said, looking both confused and aroused.

“Sure, I’m a bounty hunter after all. But if I went to find them-” He teased at her entrance with one finger. “-then I’d have to stop.”

“No, don’t,” Fennec said, laying her hands against the wall over her head. “Hands to myself.”

Looking at her stretched out like this, Boba knew he wouldn’t last much longer. After quickly making sure she was wet and ready for him, he changed position and pushed into her. 

Boba took his distraction task very seriously. It was, after all, as much a distraction for him as it was for her. 

Once he’d finished, and made sure that Fennec had hit her peak too, he gave her the slightest of reprieves before focusing all his attention on her again. He made her come using his fingers, then his mouth, and eventually his cock again, until they collapsed together on the small bunk, totally, utterly spent. 

Later, Boba lay awake, listening to the sound of Fennec breathing softly beside him. Her back was pressed against him and he could feel every inhale and exhale as if it were his own. She had wrapped his arm around her, and it rested on her stomach, just above the start of her cybernetics. He held onto her hand, their fingers entwined, and he never wanted to let go.

He’d put on a brave face for her before. If he was nervous about what the next day would bring, he could only imagine how she felt. But here, in the dead of night, he allowed himself to worry. He wished he could see her better, but the space was in total darkness save for the lights of hyperspace filtering in through the small window. Instead, he kissed her bare shoulder, softly so as not to wake her, and whispered into her skin.

“Come back to me. Please.”

He kissed her shoulder again and pulled her closer. It needed to be said, timing be damned. He might not get another chance.

“I don’t think I can live without you, _cyar’ika.”_

***

Fennec had been roused out of a deep sleep when Boba planted a featherlight kiss on her shoulder. She didn’t start, or even open her eyes, perfectly content to let him carry on kissing her. 

She remained as she was until a single word made her eyes fly open. A word he’d spoken to her only once before, in the heat of the moment. 

_Cyar’ika_.

Beloved. 

She hadn’t said anything to him then, too caught up in her own worries to give it much thought. Then on the verge of expressing her feelings, she’d been interrupted. But she knew what she felt now, and she wanted him to know it too, before morning came and put an end to it all.

She shifted around to face him, relishing the feeling of his bare chest pressing against hers. She caressed his face and kissed him softly.

“Boba?”

“Mmm?” he replied, idly running a finger down her arm.

“ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,”_ she said. The lone Mando’a phrase she’d looked up and committed to memory.

His hand stilled.

“Do you even know what you’re saying, Shand?”

She pulled him closer and pressed a kiss onto his chest. She heard him sigh at the contact and her heart began to race.

“I love you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against him. “I wanted to tell you before. I love you. And I can’t live without you either.”

“ _Fennec_ ,” he breathed, bringing his lips to hers and coaxing them open. 

Where earlier everything had been frantic and rough, two desperate people trying their best to have their fill of each other, this kiss was different. It was soft and tender, and reminded Fennec of their first kiss. But that night in the desert had been hesitant, tentative. This had none of that.

It was an expression of pure love. 

Boba rolled Fennec onto her back and shifted himself above her, one knee resting between her legs. His every move was far gentler than he’d been before. He broke their kiss and moved to Fennec’s favourite spot just below her jaw. She slid her hands along his chest and around to his back, tracing softly along the scars with her fingertips. 

He didn’t stop her, as he had earlier, but let her continue exploring and touching him. He ran his hands along her side, bringing them to rest at her hips. She’d felt him growing hard, his length pressing against the juncture of her hip and leg, but he made no move to do anything else. He continued kissing a line across her neck as though that were the only thing he ever wanted to do. 

She pressed herself against his leg, moving her hips in wordless permission for him to take this further.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, one finger brushing against her damp folds. “You’re not sore, from earlier?”

“Maybe. But I’m sure. _”_

She could feel his heart racing, beating against her own. He brought a hand to his cock and guided himself to her core. He pushed in to the hilt, then suddenly stilled. Fennec had let out a cry of both pleasure and discomfort. Perhaps she was more sore than she’d realized.

“Do you want me to stop, Fennec?”

“No. I want this. But…go slowly?”

He did exactly as she asked. She was enjoying the languorous pace, especially once he brought his fingers to her clit and circled just as slowly.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels good.”

“Should I stay like this then?”

“Harder. I can take-”

She cried out again, this time entirely with pleasure as Boba pressed down harder and began to move faster.

“You like that, Shand?”

“Yes.”

She sighed as he continued to circle his fingers, waves of electricity spreading throughout her body.

“How close are you?”

She was beyond words, moaning quietly as she rocked her hips into him.

“What do you want, Shand? Tell me.”

“Tell me you love me,” she whispered.

She surprised herself with the boldness of the request. Even with Cutter, she’d never demanded a declaration of love. But as with everything else tonight, Boba immediately gave her what she wanted.

“ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_ ,” he said, bringing his mouth to hers. “I love you.”

She gasped into his mouth, breathy sighs escaping as he kissed a line from her mouth to her jaw.

“I’ve loved you since that day I found you in the desert.” 

He peppered her neck with soft kisses.

“I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. You are everything to me.”

Fennec’s eyes fluttered shut in utter bliss and she let out a gasping cry as she fell over the edge, her every limb shaking in a way they never had before. He came apart as he stroked her down, burying his face into her neck with a groan and a final thrust. 

As they fell back asleep in each other’s arms, refusing to think about what the morning would bring, Boba kissed her a final time on her cheek and whispered into her ear.

“I love you, _cyar’ika_. Make sure you come back to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, play "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Temuera Morrison 
> 
> (credit to my friend for that one, she's saying what we're all thinking)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That long?” Fennec said before she could stop herself.
> 
> Everyone turned to face her.
> 
> “Why? Got somewhere else to be?” Mira asked.
> 
> “No,” Fennec said quickly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way you all responded to the last chapter made my heart feel so full. I love that you're all sappy romantics like I am.
> 
> Also, the chapter count went up again. No excuses, but it's prooooobably the last time that's going to happen!

Boba guided the stolen Corellian shuttle down to the designated landing area. The precise coordinates mysteriously sent to them on arrival above Tatooine led him and Fennec to a remote patch of desert far from any known settlements. 

Their craft was far smaller than the ship they were meant to rendezvous with. As such, they’d arrived over Tatooine before the other ship had, and decided not to wait off-planet. They never knew who was watching, whether the shuttle had been reported stolen. So they landed. And they waited.

Ordinarily, meeting an unknown entity in so abandoned a location would indicate a trap, but both he and Fennec agreed that this was unlikely. Crimson Dawn had ample opportunity to trap them, or kill them, and had chosen to let them go. They needed them.

Or rather, they needed Fennec.

Boba glanced over at her as the shuttle powered down. Her attention was focused on the onboard computer. While he’d been piloting, she took care of scrubbing any and all incriminating details from the ship’s systems, replacing it with far more innocuous information. At last she looked up.

“All set,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You should have no problems when you take this into town.”

There was nothing special about her tone of voice, but one word still rang out to Boba louder than any of the others. 

_ You _ . 

_ You. _ Not  _ we _ , as it had been for the last two weeks, as he’d started to expect it would always be.

A cloud of sand kicked up outside the shuttle, obscuring the view from the window. Crimson Dawn had landed. Fennec stood and shouldered her pack. She wore her full gear: her long coat, her gloves, even the leather wrap over her cybernetics. She picked up her helmet and nearly put it on before Boba stopped her.

“Shand, wait.”

“I think it’d be easier if we just got this over with.”

“Would it really?”

“No,” she whispered. “I still…what if they come after you?”

“I’m expecting them to, you know that.”

“I don’t just mean following you. I mean what if they hurt you because of me? As a way to punish me for something?”

“I’ve told you before,  _ cyar’ika _ , I’m not him. This isn’t going to be like it was before.”

“There’s too many similarities. Spice running. The Hutts. The…way I feel about you.”

“But the difference, Shand, is a combined 50-some years experience between us.” He stroked her cheek. “I wouldn’t want to be the one who has to go up against you right now.”

Fennec laughed weakly. Boba pulled her into his arms. She lay her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her hair.

“I’d better go,” Fennec said at last. “Before they come looking.”

“Go.”

“I won’t look back. I’m not giving them a reason to-”

“I know.”

“I love you, Boba.”

He kissed her hard.

“Go,” he whispered.

She finally put on her helmet, and walked briskly down the ramp and into the heat of the Tatooine desert. 

True to her word, she didn’t look back at him. But in the dark of the shuttle, invisible to anyone who cared to look his way, he watched her leave. Watched her greet Alianna and board the Crimson Dawn shuttle. It was only once she was truly gone that he allowed his composure to crack.

“I love you too,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

***

Fennec expected for Alianna to follow her on board the Crimson Dawn transport, but the moment she stepped on board, the door shut behind her. The surly pilot handed her a small disk-shaped device and took off without waiting for her to fasten her restraints.

With the transport underway, and her restraints now securely fastened, Fennec switched on the small disk. A holographic image of Alianna materialized in front of her.

“Ms. Shand,” the holographic Alianna said, “I apologize for not accompanying you to your post. I’m afraid my business takes me elsewhere just now. But not to worry, you are in the very best of hands now, and will continue to be so when you meet your new crew.”

She went on to detail aspects of Fennec’s assignment. She would be joining a small crew of the best smugglers Crimson Dawn had to offer, their objective being to commandeer an entire spice shipment bound for various worlds throughout Hutt Space. The crew, according to Alianna, were quite proficient, and while Fennec’s myriad skills were an asset, they had specifically sought her out for her sharpshooting ability.

_ That was low _ , Fennec thought. There was no reason to make excuses to her about why she was being brought on this particular job. She knew she was here paying a debt she’d unintentionally incurred through those same sharpshooting skills.

“Oh, and Ms. Shand,” Alianna said in conclusion, “I’m sure you understand that due to the sensitive nature of this particular mission, your journey into Hutt Space will be done with only intermittent use of hyperspace lanes. The bulk of it will be done at sublight.”

With that, the holographic image disappeared.

“Sublight?” Fennec exclaimed. “That’ll take days!”

The driver was completely unsympathetic to her complaints, but she hardly noticed. She had no way of letting Boba know. How long would he wait for her? How long would he be able to hold Crimson Dawn off. She hadn’t thought to get any kind of communicator and now regretted the decision. Then again, if she called him to let him know what her schedule was like, that would draw even more unnecessary suspicion. Perhaps it was better this way, however difficult it may be.

The transport pulled up in front of a larger ship docked among a cluster of craggy rocks.

“Out,” the driver snapped. 

Fennec disembarked close enough to the larger ship that she could just make out a purple Twi’lek female standing on the ramp with her arms crossed. 

As Fennec approached, the Twi’lek stood in the centre, dying her entry.

“You are?”

Was she serious? She must have seen that Fennec had been dropped off by a Crimson Dawn transport.

“Hot, tired, and dying to get this over with.”

“Cute. Name?”

“Fennec Shand,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m Mira. Let’s, as you said, get this over with.”

Fennec followed her onboard the transport. Mira led her to a small, but mercifully private, bunk where she could stow her gear then over to the cockpit where the rest of the team was assembled.

At the helm sat a Twi’lek male, who introduced himself as Dedu and a female Zabrak named Rina. The final member of their company was a young man who at first glance looked so much like Toro Calican that it startled Fennec. Was this a setup? Something Calican orchestrated to finish the job?

“Who are you?” she snapped, a little too forcefully. 

“Niko?” the young man replied, looking worried.

“Niko what?” 

“Niko Highdawn…Mira, who is this?”

So it wasn’t a trap. She should have known. Calican wasn’t smart enough to orchestrate all this. And now that she thought about it, they didn't look all that alike.

After a hasty apology and introduction, Fennec settled into her seat for takeoff. No one said anything as Mira charted a their course and Dedu took them into hyperspace. At last, when the cockpit was full of blueish-white light, the Twi’leks turned their seats around into a more social position.

“Enjoy it, kids,” Dedu said. “This’ll be the only hyperspace we see on this trip.”

“How long is this one going to take?” Niko groaned.

“A standard Tatooine week? Maybe more?”

“That long?” Fennec said before she could stop herself.

Everyone turned to face her.

“Why? Got somewhere else to be?” Mira asked.

“No,” Fennec said quickly. Though the conversation moved on, with Dedu chastising Niko for his immaturity and impatience, Fennec say Mira and Rina exchange a look.

“You’re not with Crimson Dawn, are you?” Rina asked. “How’d you end up with us?”

“I’ve…worked with Crimson Dawn before,” Fennec said carefully. “Our paths cross now and then.”

“Well, this is a small industry,” Rina quipped.

“And getting smaller,” Mira added, rolling her eyes. “With all these New Republic initiatives, fuel just isn’t worth what it used to be on the back channels. Now it’s all spice running all the time. That what you do, Fennec?”

Mira didn’t trust her, Fennec could tell that much. While she wasn’t especially inclined to make new friends on this trip, she did need to earn their trust. A lack of communication was so often how these jobs fell apart. 

_ That’s not the only way these things go wrong _ , a small nagging voice whispered at the back of her mind as an image of Cutter swam to the forefront of her imagination.

Pushing the thought away, she decided to open up a little more.

“On occasion,” Fennec shrugged.

“For who?”

“Everyone. Independent buyers, corporations, syndicates. Crimson Dawn a couple of times.”

“Hutts?” Dedu cut in. “Any insight you have could be a huge help.”

Fennec shook her head.

“I haven’t taken a job with the Hutts in…years.”

The conversation had taken such a dangerous turn towards Cutter that her hands shook slightly. She pressed them into her lap and willed them to be still. 

“Speaking of the Hutts!” Niko burst out. “Did I tell you what I heard?”

“Not again,” Rina groaned.

“No! I have this on good authority!”

“From who, your true-love-of-the-week?” Mira said. 

“First of all, it  _ was _ true love. They said it was the Nikto cartel keeping us apart.”

“Niko and his conquest from the Nikto cartel?” Rina smirked.

Niko let out an exaggerated, false laugh.

“Do you want to hear what I have or not?”

“Fine, fine, tell us.” Dedu said.

“OK, so. They showed me footage-” he paused for dramatic effect. “-of Jabba the Hutt’s final moments.”

Whatever Fennec had been expecting, that wasn’t it. She chastised herself for getting so caught up in Niko’s story. So, apparently, did everyone else, because there were groans all around. 

Fennec vaguely remembered seeing footage of a barge exploding in the desert, and hearing it belonged to Jabba the Hutt. But she’d been around too long, seen too many crime lords fake their deaths and escape prosecution. Until Boba had confirmed it, she hadn’t believed it was true. 

“Come on, Niko, you can’t be that naïve,” Mira said. “We  _ all  _ saw that footage.”

“Not the sail barge!” he insisted. “He was dead before it even exploded.”

That piqued Fennec’s interest.

“How?” she asked.

“Get this. He was strangled…by Senator Leia Organa.”

There was silence in the cockpit for a moment. Then everyone except Fennec and Niko burst out laughing.

“Oh come on,” Rina wheezed. “If you’re going to make something up, at least make it believable.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“Have you  _ seen _ how small Leia Organa is? There’s no way.”

“It’s true! The Nikto all call her ‘Huttslayer’!”

This resulted in a fresh round of laughter. Despite their continued teasing, Niko maintained  that the footage he had seen wasn’t in any way manipulated. He kept up his assertions as Fennec excused herself and shut herself in her bunk.

She leaned against the wall, overwhelmed. Boba had said he was there when it happened. She would ask him, when she got back to Tatooine, if Leia Organa had really been there that day. 

The others didn’t seem inclined to believe Niko, and she had no reason to. But she decided to believe him. Perhaps it hadn’t truly been  _ Leia Organa  _ who'd strangled him , but Fennec knew the lengths Jabba’s cruelty could drive people to. It was a fitting end for that worthless worm, to slowly die as everything he’d ever earned off the backs of others burned around him, and she relished the mental image. 

There was a knock at her door. Fennec opened it and found herself face to face with Mira.

“We’re drinking a little spotchka to toast to the start of the mission. Interested?”

She joined the crew in the small galley. As Fennec raised her glass with the others, she offered a silent toast of her own.

_ To the Huttslayer. _

***

Boba landed near one of the more reputable docking bays in Mos Eisley. He’d had dealings with the proprietor before, and knew them to be a reputable sort, the kind he would be confident selling the transport to. Negotiations nearly broke down when Boba had to gently encourage the Rodian to reconsider his price with the barrel end of his rifle, but by the end all parties walked away satisfied. These types of transactions were expected. It was Tatooine after all.

He’d originally intended to head straight home on foot, but the moment he left the docking bay, he realized this would be impossible. Though Mos Eisley was as busy as it always was, Boba was aware of a familiar presence lurking nearby. He’d caught a flash of black fabric as he left the docking bay. The Zabrak from Crimson Dawn. The one who’d boarded the transport with Alianna. Boba made a point of taking a circuitous route through town to see if he could spot him again. Most people living on Tatooine wore lighter colours. It was simply too hot to contemplate doing otherwise. This was one thing that made him stick out every time he went into town wearing his long black cloak. But by this point, locals knew him and strangers knew to fear the man in black. Anyone willing to stick out in a crowd like this feared nothing. 

In the case of this Zabrak, his careless choice in costume would be to his detriment. 

Boba walked with purpose, the long strides of a man on a mission. Once he reached the outskirts of town, he quickly slipped into a small alley between two empty buildings and waited. Sure enough, the Zabrak followed him without checking to see if he’d stopped or continued walking. Boba was ready for him. He brought his gaffi stick swinging down, knocking his pursuer to the ground. By the time he stood back up, Boba had a rifle aimed at his head.

“Call your mistress,” Boba said calmly. “Now.”

The Zabrak removed a communicator and called up Alianna.

“Davrax, I told you not to call me unless-”

Boba stepped into her field of vision. 

“Alianna,” he said. “I am not a part of any agreement you made with my associate.”

“Well, I’m sure you understand precautions had to be taken, Mr…?”

“Gears,” Boba said. 

“Gears. It won’t happen again.”

“For his sake,” Boba said, raising his rifle, “I hope not.”

Davrax cleared out rather quickly after that. The suns weren’t setting yet, but they would be soon and Boba had a choice to make. Though Alianna assured him he wouldn’t be followed any longer, he didn’t believe her. He didn’t want to risk leading them to his home, either. Resolved, he made his way into town, to one of the inns near the centre of town and paid for one of their nicer rooms. 

It had been an extraordinarily long day, and by the time t he suns were setting, he was completely drained. He could figure out his next steps in the morning, and decide what he would do while Fennec was away. 

He lay back on the large bed, and considered for the first time in his life, just how empty it felt to be lying here alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more on this "Huttslayer" business, then you should definitely read "Bloodline" by Claudia Gray, if you haven't already! Even if you have, read it again, it's that good. 
> 
> And credit to my friend for the Huttslayer inspiration <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He crept up behind the figure and placed the barrel against their head. They stiffened momentarily, then relaxed. 
> 
> “You gonna shoot me, Fett?” Fennec laughed quietly. Boba set the blaster down at once.
> 
> “ Shand ?” he said, incredulous. 
> 
> He spun her around, took her in for the briefest of moments to make sure it really was her, then pulled her in and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments on the last chapter! It may not come across in my replies, but I treasure each and every one of them (even if you're yelling at me)

There were times when even the dark of night was not enough to keep the Tatooine heat at bay. It crept in through well-insulated walls made of pale clay or cool stone. Though these kinds of nights were few, Boba had come to dread them all the same. 

He lay in his bed, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, longing for his childhood home on Kamino. The climate inside the facility where he’d lived was always closely regulated. It had to be, in order to provide optimal conditions within which the clones could thrive. But on the occasions he would venture out of doors, he was always greeted by the cool spray of the sea, or a heavy downpour of rain. His father had always worried about him when he ran out into the rain. The Kaminoans had never produced an unaltered clone before, and Jango Fett had no way of knowing if his son’s immune system would protect him from the elements. 

Though he would get sick with every foray into the rain, it was on hot, unbearable nights like this that he wished he’d taken advantage of Kamino’s climate a little more, while he still could.

Sleep eluded him. He changed position, trying to make himself more comfortable, and couldn’t help but wish that Fennec were here. Strange, perhaps, to wish for her to be pressed against him, the proximity of her body only adding to the heat. Yet the very thought of her caused a stirring within him, and he ached to see her again. 

He heard a soft brushing sound towards the door and sat bold upright. Through the light of the small window, he could just make out a silhouette hovering near the large table that made up the centre of the space. The figure did not appear to be looking at him, but removed its jacket and set it down on a chair. He slid out of bed and grabbed his little used blaster, the one Fennec had so often encouraged him to carry. Since she’d gone, it had hardly been out of his sight. 

He crept up behind the figure and placed the barrel against their head. They stiffened momentarily, then relaxed. 

“You gonna shoot me, Fett?” Fennec laughed quietly. Boba set the blaster down at once.

“ _Shand_?” he said, incredulous. 

He spun her around, took her in for the briefest of moments to make sure it really was her, then pulled her in and kissed her.

She responded at once, wrapping her arms around his bare torso and trailing her fingers along his back. He bit at her lower lip and she opened for him, their tongues meeting in a passionate, intoxicating flurry. He felt himself growing hard as she moaned softly into his mouth.

“I missed you,” he said as they broke apart.

“I missed _you,”_ Fennec said, running her hands appreciatively over his body. “I like you like this.”

“Like what, Shand?”

“Ready for me,” she said. “I’ve missed how you taste.” 

She brought her lips to his neck and dotted it with open-mouthed kisses.

“You were gone so long,” he said, “I was starting to worry.”

She continued to leave her mark on his chest. He was so hard now, he was fighting a losing battle to stay standing upright. 

“So long. Can you forgive me, boss?” she whispered against his skin.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” 

“Still,” she said, relentless with her kisses. “I’d like to make it up to you, if I can.”

“If you insist, I’ve got an idea,” Boba said, suddenly. 

He yanked her shirt and breastband off in one surprisingly fluid motion and tossed both aside. The sudden contact with air made her nipples pebble instantly and invitingly. He kissed along her breastbone, encouraged by the way her breath hitched, until his mouth found one of her nipples.

He kissed and sucked and bit gently at one breast, while he palmed the other, teasing the nipple with his thumb, and eliciting gasping sighs from Fennec. Once he felt her trembling with desire, he brought his mouth to her other breast. One of his hands drifted down between her legs, teasing her lightly through her pants.

“Wait,” Fennec panted. “Boba, wait.”

“What is it?”

“I said _I_ wanted to make it up to _you_.”

“What do you think this is?” Boba asked.

“I also said,” Fennec continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “that I missed the way you taste.”

She stepped away from him and sank to her knees, sliding Boba’s pants down as she did.

She took him in hand and slowly pumped her fist. She dragged her tongue along his length, then took him in her mouth. He was vaguely aware of her smiling at the way he hissed with pleasure, but he was already too gone to give it much thought. 

He wove his fingers into her hair as he felt her moving.

“ _Fennec,_ ” he groaned.

He felt her hum around him in satisfaction. He was close.

_“Fennec.”_

Almost.

“Fennec!”

Boba shot up into a seated position, then groaned in discomfort at his fully erect cock. Breathing hard, he took in his surroundings, situating himself. The canvas walls and the mat he slept on brought him back to his sober reality. He was in a Tusken encampment, he’d likely woken half of them with his shouting, and it had been over a week since he’d seen Fennec last.

A short while later, he emerged from the small hut, having quickly eased his discomfort. He left his black cloak inside and carried only the small blaster. Even at this early hour, with the suns barely over the horizon, it was too hot to contemplate wearing or carrying anything unnecessary.

It’s not as though it made a difference anyway. Each day was proving to be the same. Once it became clear that Crimson Dawn would not be leaving him alone, he’d quickly returned to his home from the inn, grabbed a few essentials and his speeder bike and took off into the desert. This time of year meant that the Tusken tribe that had taken him in all those years ago were settled fairly close to Mos Eisley. He’d been welcomed back with open arms. 

Davrax, his Zabrak shadow, had fortunately had the common sense not to follow him into the Tusken encampment. Yet each day Boba tempted fate by venturing into town in search of Alianna. If anyone would have information on Fennec it would be her. So far he hadn’t had any luck. She didn’t know anything, and if she did she was not about to disclose it. Yet here Boba was again, astride his speeder bike and headed for town.

Perhaps he would have better luck today.

***

“Coming up on them now,” Dedu commed from the cockpit. 

Fennec appreciated the warning, though it wasn’t strictly necessary. She’d been ready for hours. She sat crammed into a small emergency pod with Mira, waiting for the go-ahead to launch. Once they were out in the cold of space they would drift with the other debris that occupied this sector until Niko managed to slice into the spice freighter. He wasn’t going to get fancy, just open a single airlock they could dock in. Once the door was open, he and Rina would launch their own pod and join the other two.

Despite the shipment value, the freighter wasn’t large, and they expected the crew wouldn’t be either. They would be armed, but not heavily so, not expecting many problems within Hutt space. It should, in theory, go off without a hitch. Mira had spent nearly the entire trip coming up with dozens of back-up plans, but everyone fervently hoped they wouldn’t be needed.

“Go!” came Dedu’s voice. Mira launched the shuttle instantly.

Fennec’s stomach swooped as they were launched out into the darkness. When they were clear of their ship, Mira righted the pod, and slowed them down.

“Starting the sequence,” Niko said over the comm. “See if you can get a bit closer?”

Mira flew them slowly to drift within a cloud of assorted machine parts, then killed the power.

“Now we wait,” Mira said.

“Now we wait,” Fennec repeated.

Despite the rocky start, the two of them had become friendlier during the nine standard days they’d been flying. So much so that Mira had even offered her a job with the crew if she was interested. Fennec would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little tempted. She missed being out in the galaxy, keeping busy. 

But not without Boba. 

She missed him so much, it was like a near constant ache in her chest. She was grateful that the bunk they’d given her on the trip over was private. On more than one occasion, she’d woken up from a very vivid dream crying his name, with a throbbing between her thighs that begged for relief. 

She’d spent more than half her life mourning Cutter in some way, and it felt good to find love and connection again with someone else. No amount of adventure was worth throwing that away. She owed it to herself to be happy, to love a good man who loved her back. And wherever she went after this, it would be with him at her side.

So she’d politely declined Mira’s offer, not disclosing any further details on why. Mira took it all in good stride, and told her the offer would always be there if she changed her mind.

“Look alive, girls, the door is opening now.” Niko said.

“Girls?!” Mira burst out in mock outrage.

“Show some respect, kid,” Fennec laughed. 

They could still hear Niko cackling as Mira powered back up and took them right to the open airlock. Fennec glanced around and through the debris could just make out the second pod detaching from their ship. Rina and Niko were on their way, and the plan was a go. 

They passed through the shielded entrance and waited for the other two to join them before disembarking. Once all four were out, they keyed in the command for the airlock to close, armed their weapons and ventured into the freighter. 

As plans went, it was fairly simple. They splintered off, Mira and Rina to take the cockpit, since Rina fought best in close quarters, while Fennec accompanied Niko to secure the shipment.

They’d expected to find guards close to the spice shipment, but it wasn’t until they’d actually entered the cargo hold that they saw any. They’d detected the slice, and decided to lie in wait rather than try to shoot them out of the sky.

That had been their first mistake. And their last, as it turned out. 

Fennec was firmly opposed to dragging the bodies to an airlock and jettisoning them into space. Something about a dozen bodies floating aimlessly in space for an eternity terrified her, even if she’d been the one to kill them. Instead, with Niko’s help, she dragged them all to an unused storage unit. They headed for the cockpit by the most circuitous route they could find, making sure the coast was clear.

By the time they met up with the other two, Mira was lounging in the pilot’s seat, and Rina was standing nearby, covered in blood.

“Not mine,” she said, in response to Fennec’s horrified look. “Pilot didn’t want to give up his seat. Had to be convinced.”

“So that’s it?” Fennec asked, surprised by how easy it had all been.

“That’s it,” Mira said, shrugging.

“What do you say, kid?” Rina asked Niko. “Staying here or coming back with me?”

“With you,” Niko said. “I left my datapad behind.”

Rina rolled her eyes and headed out, with Niko on her heels.

“Back to Tatooine, then?” Fennec asked, once Niko and Rina's pod had departed back to their ship. 

“Yep, unless you’ve got somewhere else you’d like to go? They won’t miss this shipment if we’re a couple of days late.”

“No, I…I need to be getting back. I’ve been away long enough.”

“We’ll use the hyperspace lanes. It’ll be hours now, not days,” Mira said, looking relieved.

“Plotting a course to Tatooine,” Fennec replied.

Mira launched them into hyperspace, then set it to autopilot and excused herself to take a much-needed nap in a nearby bunk. She’d barely slept on the trip over, planning having occupied most of her time. Fennec agreed to keep an eye on the helm, as neither of them trusted the freighter enough to leave the cockpit unattended. 

She cleaned her gear, and changed out of her sweat-soaked clothes. But after about an hour, Fennec felt something she hadn’t felt in years: boredom. 

She took a quick tour of the area surrounding the cockpit. She found something edible in the galley. Finally, out of ideas, she decided to consult the shipboard computer to read the manifest. She was morbidly curious about how much spice exactly it would take to settle her debt to Crimson Dawn. It was clear now they hadn’t really _needed_ her on this mission. They wanted to teach her a lesson. Put her in her place. The only reason she didn’t feel more bitter about it was because she’d survived and was heading back home to Boba.

_Home,_ she thought, a smile spreading across her face. 

She scrolled through the manifest, and started to feel that maybe she should have just stolen the shipment for herself if _this_ was how much she was worth. She'd never need to work again.

“Been selling myself short,” she muttered bitterly. 

When she finally reached the end of the document, her heart plummeted and she was suddenly short of breath. All because of five small words:

**Deliver to: Menco Cartel, Tatooine.**

***

Boba hung around Mos Eisley all day. Alianna had not been hard to track down. He found her holding court at what was ostensibly a textile merchant, but which he knew to be a Crimson Dawn front. She brushed him off, as she had every day for the last week, and though his patience was wearing thin, he couldn’t let it show. 

As far as Crimson Dawn knew, he was a disgruntled employer awaiting the return of his employee. Excessive concern would draw too much attention to the nature of his and Fennec’s relationship and would put them both in danger. Particularly if Fennec didn’t know circumstances had changed.

On the other days, he’d returned to the Tusken camp immediately after speaking with - or rather, being rebuffed by - Alianna. But that was no longer good enough. This job was taking too long. They had been out of touch, and not knowing why was killing him. He made his inquiries at the nearby docking bays, then when he was out of productive things to do, he headed to the cantina.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he had unintentionally placed himself in a very strange position. He’d sought Fennec’s help in retrieving his father’s armour, but once he decided it was in far better hands than his own, he’d been left adrift. A man without purpose.

He hadn’t noticed it at first, lost in the blur of passionate days and nights spent with Fennec followed by a harrowing few days in Corellia. But now, with unlimited time to think, he realized he had no idea who he was anymore. 

He finished his drink and resolved to come to some kind of decision about his predicament before Fennec returned. She was a part of his life now, and whatever decision he made, he wanted to make it together.

He walked out into the fading daylight, wishing he’d parked his speeder a little closer to the centre of town. The streets were quiet, the residents of Mos Eisley unwilling to linger in the outdoor heat a moment longer than necessary. He turned down a small street, looking for a shortcut he’d discovered earlier that week. A voice broke the silence.

“You! Clone!”

As Boba spun he drew his blaster. The speaker barely had time to register the movement before Boba shot him squarely in the chest. He wasn’t alone. Two others stood near the fresh corpse, their weapons drawn. Boba shot them as well, now on high alert. He scanned the rest of the street for more assailants.

He briefly registered white and gold patches on the jackets of those he’d killed. He then felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. He was dimly aware of his body hitting the ground before unconsciousness took him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenge me to go one chapter without writing anything smutty and I'd fail miserably. 
> 
> You know what, I'm not even sorry :P


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything we’ve done to him, Shand? It’s your fault.”
> 
> The seed of panic blossomed now. She knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. Naarssk was dead. Boba told her that himself.
> 
> But he didn’t see it happen, she reminded herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was initially saving this chapter for tomorrow or the say after.
> 
> Then someone decided to run her mouth on Twitter with a terrible take about the quality of fan fiction so I'm updating today! Enjoy :D

Boba came to lying on his side, his face pressed in cool, damp sand. His hand were in binders behind his back, and his ankles were bound as well. 

_ So much for standing up. _

He carefully opened his eyes and tried to figure out what had happened. Despite the poor lighting, he could see that he was in what looked like a little-used warehouse. The space was lined with boxes and crates that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in years. The air was rank, chilly, and humid. 

_ They found the one humid place on Tatooine _ , he thought sardonically. 

A pair of boots stood directly in his field of vision.

“Oh good,” a vaguely familiar voice said. “I was starting to think you killed him.”

He could see other pairs of boots coming to join the first, all the same sort of industrial make.

_ A uniform, then _ .

“Might as well have a little fun before she gets here,” the voice continued. “Let’s make him look handsome for his lady love.”

Boba felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. He was hauled roughly to his knees, and immediately felt a blow to his stomach. He doubled over coughing, his captor’s steel grip being the only thing preventing him from falling face-first into the sand again.

“Wait,” the same voice said. “You can’t start off so easy. Let me show you.”

The owner of the mysterious voice stepped into the light, and Boba recognized him at once, despite a now partially disfigured face.

“You,” Boba said, hardly able to believe it.

“Me,” Naarssk said simply, before bringing his fist to bear on Boba’s face.

***

“Buckle up,” Mira called. “We’re starting the landing sequence.”

Fennec took her seat. She was doing her best to affect a cool, collected demeanour, and part of her was still concerned by the name she’d seen on the manifest, but in truth she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy. Somewhere, down on that little dustball, Boba was waiting for her. 

The moment they were together again, they could put all this nonsense behind them. Never do another moment’s work for any of the cartels. It might limit the options available to two mercenaries, but considering the alternative was to be caught up in underground warfare until one of them was killed, she would rather take her chances. 

Perhaps they could take up bounty hunting, for the Guild or the New Republic. There must be plenty of old Imperials slinking around, and she hadn’t quite given up on making them as miserable as possible, even though the war was long over. 

So it was with a head full of possibilities that Mira set the stolen freighter down near a series of large, old, run down structures in the middle of nowhere. The two of them disembarked into the harsh sunlight, and were greeted by Rina, Niko and Dedu, and a handful of Crimson Dawn guards.

“Where are we?” Fennec asked, squinting despite the visor on her helmet.

“Crimson Dawn warehouses,” Dedu shrugged. “We barely use them these days, our outpost in this sector is actually on Geonosis.”

“Can we go?” Rina asked. “I don’t like being exposed like this.”

Dedu stayed behind with the guards while the rest of them boarded a waiting speeder, piloted by the same surly driver that had delivered Fennec to them in the first place. 

Once they were coasting along the dunes, Fennec asked the question that had been nagging at her since they landed.

“So why stop here? With the shipment. Geonosis isn’t far.”

“We think…other groups might have caught wind of the mission,” Mira said after a moment. 

A chill settled over Fennec.

“Other groups like Menco, you mean?” she asked. 

They didn’t need to answer. The looks on their faces told her all she needed to know.

“How did you-?” Niko began.

“I saw the manifest.”

“The whole trip back,” Mira said, shaking her head. “You never said.”

“Why would I? None of you mentioned who we were  _ really  _ stealing from, which means you all knew why Alianna really put me on this crew. It was to get back at Menco pure and simple, it had nothing to do with the money.”

She hadn’t realized until this moment how angry and betrayed she felt. She had no illusions about why Crimson Dawn brought her on board. But she thought that she’d at least bonded with the crew, that they trusted each other.

So much for that. She should know better.

“Fennec,” Rina said, “you have to understand. Alianna, she told us not to-”

“Don’t bother,” Fennec said, cutting her off. “Did she at least have the decency to leave my associate alone?”

“He wasn’t part of the plan,” Mira said quickly, reassuringly. “It was only you she wanted.”

The air had become dangerously tense. Each of them eyed Fennec warily, so she decided to leave it at that. Let them be uncomfortable. 

The speeder came to a stop in an unfamiliar corner of town. The crew disembarked, and Fennec debated following them. She didn’t need answers exactly, more an outlet for the frustration she felt at being used by Crimson Dawn. But right now, she pushed Alianna to the back of her mind. There was only one face she really wanted to see, and he would be waiting for her at home. 

Mira looked as though she wanted to say something to her, but held back. Fennec knew the fact that she was still concealing her face made them all even more nervous. They couldn’t get a read on her. Perfect.

“Take her wherever she wants to go,” Mira instructed the driver at last.

She directed the driver to take her most of the way back home, getting out of the speeder when she was about a 15 minute walk away from her destination. Though Crimson Dawn probably already knew where Boba lived, she wasn’t especially interested in making it easier for them.

She picked up the pace once she could make out the silhouette of the hut. She charged through the front door, calling out.

“Boba?”

She removed her helmet and looked around the small space. It was quite clear that he wasn’t home at the moment, but a quick inspection revealed he hadn’t been here for days. He usually tried to keep the space as free of sand as possible, but she noticed it had started to gather on surfaces around the kitchen.

She felt the tiniest seed of panic sprout in her chest. She dropped her helmet on the table, along with the bulk of her gear. She made sure she had both her blasters and all her knives on her person, but opted to leave her rifle behind. She would need to move efficiently. 

She turned back the way she came and leapt onto the speeder bike parked outside. She took off towards Mos Eisley so quickly, that had she bothered to check she probably would have noticed that she outstripped the speeder that had dropped her off. 

The suns had begun to set by the time she pulled up in front of the building she’d seen her former crew enter. She was thankful for her excellent memory and sense of direction, or else she would have wasted valuable time looking. 

She burst in through the front door, her blaster drawn and armed. The building, as it turned out, was a former cantina. It didn’t look as if it was open to the public any longer. In fact, there was only one table in the centre of the room, and every single one of its occupants jumped when Fennec entered.

“Where is he?” Fennec snapped.

“Ms. Shand,” Alianna began.

“Where?” Fennec demanded, louder this time. 

Alianna raised her hands and slowly rose to her feet. 

“If you mean your employer, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I-” Alianna shook her head, unsure what to say.

“You trying to tell me you  _ didn’t  _ have him followed as soon as we left?”

“Well. It was a matter of security, you understand.”

Mira gasped quietly. The first sound Fennec had heard out of any of the crew.

“That’s what I thought,” Fennec said, ignoring Mira. “I’m only going to ask you one more time.”

“I promise you, Ms. Shand, I don’t know where he is. He made it very clear that first day that he wasn’t to be followed.”

“And you just…listened?”

“It soon became clear that I needn’t have worried,” Alianna said, brushing past Fennec’s question. “He came to check in with me every day, asking after your whereabouts.”

A small glow warmed Fennec’s heart, but was soon doused by a larger wave of anxiety. If he’d been so careful as to check in every day, then where was he now?

“My, ah, source, told me that after he and I spoke he would venture further into town, towards the docking bays and such and make his inquiries there. Perhaps you would like to do the same?”

Fennec glared at her, but couldn’t detect any hint of a lie. 

“I was also told that when he wasn’t in town, he spent his time among the Sand People.”

Fennec nodded tersely. She should have known that’s where Boba would go to evade an unwanted follower.

“Fine.”

“We’ll go with you!” Rina said at once. The other members of the crew nodded in agreement.

“I think you’ve all done enough,” Fennec said bitterly. “I’ll find him myself.”

She exited the building as quickly as she’d entered it and sat astride her bike, pausing for a moment to collect herself.

A small child darted out from an alley and scrambled up to her.

“Are you Fennec Shand?”

“Who’s asking?” she replied at once. The child was dirty and half-starved. “Where are your parents.”

“This is for you,” he said, pressing a small holodisc into her hand then retreating. 

“Hey, wait,” she called, extending her other hand towards him, a handful of credits on her palm. “Buy yourself some food, ok?”

The child raced forward, snatched the credits as if he was afraid she’d change her mind, then disappeared in the twilight. 

She examined the holodisc for a moment, then switched it on. A bluish holographic image materialized in front of her. It took her a moment to recognize what she was looking at, but once she did her heart stopped. 

Boba was being held somewhere, looking alarmingly worse for wear. His eyes were swollen and his face was caked with blood. He was breathing hard and hunched forward. But in a testament to his strength, he seemed to be kneeling under his own power, it didn’t look as though he was being held up.

“Did you honestly think you could turn around and hurt us like that without consequences?” said a familiar voice. “Everything we’ve done to him, Shand? It’s your fault.”

The seed of panic blossomed now. She knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. Naarssk was dead. Boba told her that himself.

_ But he didn’t see it happen _ , she reminded herself.

“If you want a shot at making this right, perhaps at sparing his life, I suggest you come find us. We’ll be in the same place your new friends thought they could hide their little dealings.”

The hologram switched off.

Fennec replayed it again, hardly daring to look directly at Boba. Instead she studied his surroundings. She could see something peeking out behind him. She paused the image and looked closer. 

It was a crate, bearing a familiar symbol. The symbol of the Menco, no doubt. 

But no. Not the Menco.

Crimson Dawn.

They were at the warehouses.

She turned the speeder bike on at once and whipped it around and out of town. She was well aware of the danger, travelling the dunes alone as the suns set, but it was a secondary concern. Her priority was Boba. 

When she arrived at the warehouses, she noted that the two ships and all personnel were gone. She began to regret her decision to refuse Mira’s help. Who knew what was waiting for her in there. She quickly peered inside the smaller buildings and found them totally deserted. They were in the largest building then. 

It was a long building made entirely of solid stone, and not the sort that came cheap on Tatooine either. She eased the door open and found this building just as empty as the others. However, to the left of the large door was a ramp that led into a dark basement. She didn’t hesitate, carefully making her way down into the abyss. 

It was a strange experience. She wasn’t used to feeling chilliness or humidity in the air on Tatooine, yet she could feel the air of the basement seeping into her skin and settling on her bones. She prayed her cybernetics could withstand the very sudden change in temperature. She reached a fork in the road and paused, closing her eyes to listen. 

For what felt like an eternity, she heard nothing. And then,  _ there _ . The faintest scuffle to her left. She followed the sound down the tunnel, drawing her blaster. She emerged in an open, poorly lit space stacked with old, dusty crates. She saw an assortment of hired guns standing around, each in the uniform of the Menco. She paid them little mind as none of them seemed inclined to shoot her, or harm her in anyway. In the centre of the room, looking just as he had on the holodisc, was Boba. 

She cautiously walked towards him, and when no one made a move to stop her, she moved quicker. She knelt before him and helped him shift to a more upright position.

“Boba?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

“Shand?” he asked weakly. 

“Yeah. It’s me,” she said gently.

She took his face carefully in her hands and helped him look up. 

“You shouldn’t have come here,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

“What? Why would I leave you?”

“He’s alive Shand,” Boba whispered, shaking his head.

“Who?”

“So nice of you to join us,” someone said behind her. 

“Naarssk,” Fennec said without turning.

“Pick her up, what are you doing?” Naarssk snapped at the guards.

Coming to their senses, they surged forward and yanked Fennec away from Boba. They held her arms tightly, seriously limiting her movements, and forcing her to face the Trandoshan.

Naarssk looked as though he’d barely survived the explosion on Corellia. His limbs were in the process of growing back, but his face was irreparably damaged. The fury in his reptile eyes was unlike anything Fennec had ever seen.

“Since when is Fennec Shand a spice runner for Crimson Dawn?” he sneered.

Fennec said nothing, choosing to glower at him instead.

“What? No witty reply?” Naarssk asked. “Very well, then let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to track down that freighter, and you’re going to steal back-”

“No.” Fennec interrupted.

“What was that?”

“No. Enough. I am  _ tired _ of being pulled every which way, dragged into this ridiculous war between the Menco and Crimson Dawn. This is your problem, you sort it out.”

“I don’t think you understand-”

“And for that matter,” Fennec continued, well and truly fed up, “why would I help a small time gang like you when Crimson Dawn is so much bigger and can just have me killed.”

“Idiot,” Naarssk spat. “This is so much bigger than us. We were supposed to deliver half that shipment to Black Sun. So unless you’d like to explain yourself to  _ them _ ?”

“They won’t know I was here.”

“They will when I tell them.”

“Why would they CARE?” Fennec yelled. She had hit her breaking point. She was so sick of being threatened. All these big shot gangsters with nothing better to do than use a single mercenary like a pawn.

“A delicate balance needs to be maintained,” Naarssk said as though he were speaking to a child. “We know _this_ wasn’t your idea. Crimson Dawn knows the assassination wasn’t your idea. And Black Sun will know the full story too. But do you think that actually changes anything?”

Fennec was completely lost now, but opted to stay silent instead.

“We can’t outright accuse each other. If the gangs go to war, the New Republic will shut us all down and there goes our way of life. But if we wage war via proxies…”

With this he indicated Fennec. She began to shake with rage.

“I am not some  _ pawn _ ,” she bit out. “I _refuse_ to help you. Settle it yourself.”

“Fine. I offer you this ultimatum, Shand, if you want to walk away with your life.”

Fennec looked away from him, and at Boba instead. He looked back at her, concern written all over his bloodied face.

“Either you agree to help us,” Naarssk said, “or you execute your paramour.”

It was fortunate someone was holding on to her, or else Fennec might have collapsed. She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up. Because this couldn’t be real. Her worst nightmare realized all over again, the details morbidly similar.

“No,” she whispered, all the fight gone out of her. “Please, no.”

“Those are my terms,” he said standing beside Boba and yanking him upright. “Your choice.”

“Naarssk,” she pleaded, shaking her head.

Boba’s eyes darted quickly to Naarssk, who was still standing next to him, then looked back at Fennec.

“Do what you have to do,  _ cyar’ika, _ ” he said.

Fennec took a shaky breath, resolved. How had she found herself so without a choice, yet again?

“Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll steal the shipment back?” Naarssk asked.

“Hand me my blaster,” Fennec said in a flat voice.

Naarssk made a noise of surprise.

“She really is as heartless as they say. Well, you heard her, hand her blaster back.”

The guards let go of Fennec and trained their weapons on her instead. One of them handed her her weapon. She faced Boba, willing her hands to stop shaking. 

He gave her a single solemn nod.

_ Do what you have to do, cyar’ika. _

She raised the blaster.

_ Cyar’ika. _

She refused to shut her eyes. She needed to see it happen this time. 

_ Cyar’ika. _

“Boba,” she whispered.

_ Do what you have to do, cyar’ika. _

She pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao please don't yell at me. I've already been yelled at.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright, cyar’ika?”
> 
> She took his face in her hands once again, gently running her fingers over the dried blood. 
> 
> “What did they do to you?”
> 
> “This is nothing, you should see the other guy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm scared. 
> 
> OK enjoy!

Boba knew Naarssk had sent a message to Fennec, goading her to come find them, and hoped she never got it. Or at least got it too late. It would let her have some closure over his death, without dragging her back into this miserable conflict neither of them had anything to do with. 

So the moment he saw Fennec stride into the warehouse, blaster drawn, he felt his heart sink. He wanted to yell that it was a trap, but the only thing that guaranteed for them was a pair of matching blaster bolts to the head. He tried to watch what she did next, but lacked the strength to keep his head upright. 

So he relied on his other senses.

He heard her walking towards him, slowly at first, then quicker. He saw a flash of black material, and caught a whiff of the soap Fennec used for her hair. He then felt her hands on his body, helping him sit upright. Then she was cradling his face, enabling him to see her properly. They exchanged a few words before Naarssk arrived putting an end to it.

He offered her that dreaded ultimatum. There was proper panic written on Fennec’s face now. There would be no way out of it now. She would have to do as he said.

Unless.

Naarssk stood very close to Boba, taunting Fennec. He didn’t seem inclined to move. Boba knew what tactical move _he_ would make, and he could only hope Fennec came to the same conclusion. He tried to communicate it to her, and had no idea if he’d succeeded. But she was smart. She probably had it figured out without him. 

Fennec raised her blaster and fired.

Naarssk had a moment to register his shock, and process the smouldering hole in his chest, before he collapsed to the ground. 

Fennec sprinted towards Boba before the guards had a chance to react.

“Hands out!” she said quickly. He didn’t need to be told twice. He extended his arms as far behind him as they would go, not flinching when he heard her fire a shot at the ground, the bolt severing the connection between his binders.

“Can you move?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Great. Here.”

She tossed him a second blaster, drew a knife from her boot, then turned to face the room of suddenly-aware guards. 

It had been a long time since he’d had to fight armed only with a blaster, but it felt as though no time at all had passed. The two of them worked in tandem, alternating between using their firearms and fighting in close quarters. 

He fired on the last guard, who had snuck up behind Fennec and for some reason was trying to strangle her instead of shooting her. Once he’d dropped to the ground, Fennec doubled over, coughing and trying to catch her breath. 

Boba shuffled over to her in the now-silent warehouse, and placed a hand on her back. She gasped in alarm, then relaxed when she realized who it was.

“Are you alright, _cyar’ika?_ ”

She took his face in her hands once again, gently running her fingers over the dried blood. 

“What did they do to you?”

“This is nothing, you should see the other guy,” Boba said, casting his eyes over to Naarssk’s corpse. 

Fennec let out a slightly hysterical laugh, the kind brought on by a sudden rush of adrenaline, and looked over to Naarssk as well. Boba took her chin in his hand and pulled her in for a kiss. He coaxed her lips open, and kissed her more deeply. He was hardly aware of anything other than the feel of her mouth on his, when a sudden jolt of pain brought him crashing down to reality.

“Ow!”

They broke their kiss at once. He brought his finger up to his lower lip and was greeted with a bubble of fresh blood from where Fennec had bitten him.

“I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s fine Shand,” he laughed. “Maybe we should clean ourselves up before we get carried away.”

They each threw an arm around the other for support - with Fennec doing most of the supporting - and slowly made their way out of the warehouse. After shooing away a curious Jawa who had come poking around the speeder bike, and making sure that he hadn’t actually taken anything, they climbed on and took off into the night. 

Boba directed Fennec to take a shortcut back to his home. He could return to the Tusken camp for the rest of his belongings later. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and he was becoming keenly aware of the pain in his face and the fresh bruises blossoming on his body. 

Despite the shortcut, by the time they arrived, the faintest of glows on the horizon signalled that the suns would start their ascent into the sky soon. It had been an extremely long day.

Boba headed directly inside to hunt for the medkit. He’d just set everything up on the table when Fennec entered, carrying water from the moisture vaporator. She left it for him along with some rags. The chemical smell that wafted towards Boba shortly after told him she was now cleaning her cybernetics.

They worked mostly in silence, save for the occasional hiss of pain when they made contact with a cut or bruise. Boba self-administered enough bacta that the more severe bruises began to fade. He brought a cloth to his face, and tried to wash off the caked blood and dirt by feel alone. He hadn’t seen the point in a mirror and never bothered buying one, but was now regretting the decision.

“Need a hand?”

Fennec didn’t wait for an answer. She took the cloth from him and began carefully wiping his face, taking extra care near his partially healed cuts. 

He was keenly aware of their positioning. How she wore nothing but her leggings and breastband. How close she was. So close he could kiss her if he wanted to. 

He took her hand in his, using the other to tug the rag away from her and toss it back into the water.

“What-?”

He didn’t answer her, choosing instead to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. He worked his way slowly up to the palm of her hand, encouraged by her sharp intake of breath. He needed her closer. He pulled her towards him, his hand resting against the base of her spine. 

“Boba”, she whispered, as he pressed up against her. His fingers danced up and down her back, and she sighed softly. 

“Don’t move, _cyar’ika_.”

***

Ten days was really too long to be apart. She had never been this sensitive to touch before, yet the sensation of him gently kissing her skin sent shockwaves through her. She felt a throbbing at her centre, but didn’t dare move. After all, he’d told her to stay still. 

He stripped her of her breastband and leggings without ceremony. He then slid off her underwear, gently kissing his way back up her legs, lingering at the inside of her thighs so long it made her squirm. The anticipation was killing her. The memory of their last time together, of how he’d told her he loved her over and over while she came apart around him, made her sigh again. Boba stood up and pulled her now-naked body against his fully clothed one. One hand snaked down her front, fingers brushing lightly against her damp folds.

“It’s only been a week,” he murmured into her neck. “Have you missed me that much?”

“Yes,” she said, pressing closer. “So much.” 

She tried to coax his hand where she longed to feel it most.

“Wait, _cyar’ika_ ,” he said, “I missed you too, you know.”

He then resumed kissing her wrists, her hands, her neck. Her hips ground down unconsciously, seeking release against the thigh that he’d planted firmly between her legs. She was so starved for his touch, that if they kept this up, it would be enough to send her over the edge. 

But she wanted more. _Needed_ it.

“Please,” she begged. “Touch me. Please.”

“I thought I was?” he said innocently.

“Not…not what I meant.”

“Then ask me properly.”

“Please, boss.” 

“That’s more like it.”

He slid two fingers between her thighs so quickly she let out a shout that quickly turned into sounds of quiet pleasure as he circled over her clit.

“Better?”

“Yes,” she sighed, circling her hips in tandem with his fingers. 

“How’s this?” he asked, pressing down and circling harder. 

“ _More.”_

He slid the two fingers into her, curling them while his thumb moved to focus on her clit. Her knees buckled as a fresh wave of pleasure overtook her, and for a moment she was afraid they’d fall. He held onto her with one arm and braced himself against the table as he continued to work her. She rolled into his hand, deepening the sensation. He maintained his speed, a slow, erotic pace. The way he touched her bordered on reverential. 

“Boba?”

“Yes, _cyar’ika?_ ” 

“I…-”

She broke off with a cry as he withdrew his hand. The sudden loss of stimulation was almost too much to bear.

He ran his hands down her bare back, caressing her ass before digging his fingers into her thighs, guiding her backwards to the bed. 

He lowered her more roughly than he usually did, not that she especially noticed or minded. The almost animalistic look he wore as he took in every inch of her body sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. 

He made quick work of his own clothing, then lowered himself above her. She cried out his name as he pushed into her with a snap of his hips.

It didn’t take much to build her back up again. She moved her hips frantically, in time with his. Their moans mingled in the air, one nearly drowning out the other. He brought his hand between them to coax her over the edge.

Her orgasm hit her like a wave. He maintained his momentum through her aftershocks, then came apart himself with a final thrust. She lay back on the mattress, boneless and breathing hard. She could have sworn she saw stars dancing in front of her eyes. He remained on top of her for a moment, equally spent. 

“I love you, Boba” she breathed. 

“I love you too,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth, then moving to lie beside her.

“I thought about you all the time,” she whispered with a smile, laying a hand on his cheek. “At night, I dreamed about you, too. Fantasized.”

“And how did those fantasies compare?” he asked, idly tracing lines along her ribs.

“Not even close.”

Boba kissed her again, hard.

“It just so happens I had some fantasies of my own while you were gone.”

“Oh? Like what?”

A devilish grin spread across his face.

“I could show you if you like.”

She was tempted to agree. But like a jolt to her heart, the horror of the evening began to settle on her. She felt like she was on the verge of spiralling, when all she wanted to do was bask in the bliss of their reunion.

“Later. For now can you just…hold me?”

The moment Boba pulled her against him, she felt herself relax again. She fell asleep in his arms, soothed by the soft rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of his fingers in her hair.

***

Boba watched the long summer day pass them by through the small window. Neither he nor Fennec felt particularly inclined to go outside. They’d gotten out of bed a couple of times - once to clean up, once to eat - but for the most part spent their time wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time. 

As he watched the light of the suns turn to a radiant shade of orange signalling the end of the day, Boba couldn’t help but worry about Fennec. In their intimate moments, she was as responsive as ever to his touch, and she’d been the one to initiate at least half their sexual activity that day. 

But in the moments where she thought he couldn’t see her, or believed him to be asleep, he could see a line of worry working its way across her brow. He could see it in her expression now, as she lay on her back, resting her head on his shoulder. But there was something else too, an air of pensiveness.

“What are you thinking about, Shand?”

“Jabba the Hutt,” she replied, still lost in thought.

“Uh…do you…usually think about Jabba the Hutt in bed?”

“What? Oh! No!”

She laughed softly and changed position, resting her chin and hands on his chest and looking him in the eye.

“I was thinking about how he died.”

“In the explosion.”

“Apparently it wasn’t an explosion.”

“No,” Boba said, confused. “His barge definitely exploded. I have the scars to prove it.”

“I heard he was strangled by Leia Organa.”

Boba felt an uncomfortable twinge in his heart, thoughts of a heart-wrenching farewell in a carbon freezing chamber, and of a princess dressed like a dancing girl against her will crept into the corner of his memory.

“Is it true?” Fennec asked. “Was Leia Organa there? That’s what one of the Crimson Dawn members said, but I don’t know what to believe, it was probably just another small brunette who’d had enough of Jabba and-”

“She was there,” Boba said, simply.

“She was _?_ ” Fennec sounded surprised. “ _Why?_ ”

Boba sighed, and pushed himself into a seated position. Fennec sat up as well, pulling the blanket around herself against the sudden chill brought on by lack of body heat.

“I told you, before, that when I wore my father’s armour I…I wasn’t a good man. I did what I had to do to survive, took jobs where I could, especially if the pay was good. I even enjoyed it, for the most part. I was good at it. Then about 7 years ago, I accepted a job from Jabba the Hutt.”

Fennec inhaled sharply but said nothing. They both knew there were few mercenaries who _hadn’t_ done a job for Jabba at some point. 

“Seemed pretty easy for such a high bounty. Bring in a smuggler responsible for dumping his shipment and losing him a lot of money.”

As he said it, Boba became aware of how familiar this must sound to Fennec. He reached out for her hand. She squeezed it once then let go.

“I’m fine, go on.”

“This smuggler, Han Solo, was not as easy to catch as I expected. But the Empire was interested in one of his associates, a man - Jedi as it turns out - named Skywalker. With their assistance and resources, I was able to corner Solo on Bespin. I would have just taken him in, but the Empire insisted I carbon-freeze him, to test the technology for use on Skywalker.

“And Leia Organa? How does she fit in?”

“The man I brought in, Han Solo. She was there. Told him she loved him moments before he was frozen.”

Fennec clamped a hand over her mouth in shock.

“Jabba was delighted. I was paid handsomely, and invited into his inner circle. I spent a lot of time here on Tatooine, at his palace. The lifestyle was enticing, and the odd job here and there seemed like a small price to pay for the privilege. That all changed the day before Jabba was killed.”

He told Fennec how Leia Organa, with help from her friends, had snuck into the palace to free Han Solo. How she’d been caught and enslaved by Jabba on the spot. How in his arrogance, Jabba had taken most of the court out to the Dune Sea to feed Leia’s friends, Solo included, to the Sarlacc. And finally how Boba himself had been the only one to meet that particular fate that day.

“I wasn’t with them on the barge,” he concluded. “But after what he did to her, I could believe that she killed him with her own hands.”

“So it’s true then,” Fennec said quietly.

“Even though I fought for Jabba, I will say, I admired her spirit. Sneaking into his palace with no help, all to save the man she loved. She had to know there was no way she’d make it out alive.”

“But she did.”

“She did.”

“She was willing to do the hard, necessary thing for the man she loved,” Fennec said quietly, her eyes brimming. She blinked hard.

“Hey,” Boba said, leaning forward and brushing away the tears on her cheeks.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Fennec gave him a small smile, then moved towards him and kissed him.

She discarded her blanket and straddled his lap. Boba couldn’t help but feel she wasn’t being entirely honest with him, but a seductive roll of her hips was enough for him to put it out of his mind, at least for the time being.

***

Night had fallen over Tatooine, and Fennec was unable to sleep. The story of Leia Organa ran through her head over and over.

She’d risked everything. Risked capture and death, all to save the man she loved. She did what she had to do, even if Han Solo might have discouraged her from that course of action if he were able. 

It had worked for them in the end, clearly. But not everyone could be so lucky. Fennec had long ago accepted that her life would not turn out like one of the romances she’d loved to read when she was a teenager. Her time with Boba had turned her head, and started to make her think otherwise. 

But Fennec knew better now.

What happened the night before was all her fault. If Boba hadn’t been caught up in her mess, he would be living his life content and in peace. Perhaps he’d have reclaimed his father’s armour after all, perhaps not. But he would have some purpose in life beyond her. As it stood, she was only good for getting him into trouble. She would get him killed sooner or later.

_The hard but necessary thing._

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and dressed in the dark. She gathered her gear and softly slipped up the stairs and out the door before she could think better of it. A voice in her head screamed at her to turn around, to crawl back into bed, into Boba’s arms, and to stay there forever, but she pushed the thought aside.

_I’m doing this because I love him._

She packed up one of the speeder bikes to carry her gear. Perhaps she could arrange for someone to return it to Boba? She would have to ask in town.

“What are you doing, Shand?”

She turned quickly, and found Boba standing by the door, hastily dressed in his dirty clothing from the night before.

“I was hoping I’d be gone before you woke up.”

“Why?”

“It’s better this way, Fett.”

“What is?”

“You almost _died_. Because of me. Because of something I’d done.”

“But I didn’t. Nothing happened.”

He moved towards her, but she took a step back and crossed her arms. It broke her heart, but she knew if he touched her she would lose all her resolve. 

“Nothing happened _this_ time. What about the next, and the next, and the next?”

“Then we will take care of it. Together. Partners, remember?”

“A lot of good that did us! We were almost too late.”

She shook her head, and turned away.

Boba sounded angry now.

“I don’t get you, Shand. I thought I did, but clearly I was wrong. How many times do I have to tell you that this isn’t like it was before?”

She spun back around.

“Isn’t it? Because last night was _terrifyingly_ similar. If Naarssk hadn’t been such an idiot, I wouldn’t have been able to shoot him. You would have died!”

“You would have shot me? Rather than work for them again?”

Fennec laughed in frustration.

“You can’t be this naïve. You think if I’d agreed to steal the shipment back that they would have let you live? They would have killed you the second my back was turned.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually. I was right, you’ve been out of this game too long.” She scoffed. “Are you just jealous that I actually have the guts to make a decision about my life? You brought me on to work for you and yet, you’ve got _no_ idea what you want, do you?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be. I spent 25 years trying to put my heart back together. I’m not willing to let it be broken again.”

“You know what? _That’s_ your real problem. You’re so used to running the second things get difficult that you won’t stick it out to try and fix them” 

“I-”

“And you’re so unwilling to accept that things won’t be like they were before that you’re pushing me away! I’m _not Cutter_! No matter how much I look like him, I’m not him. I never was. But you can’t accept that.”

“I know you aren’t him!”

“Do you? Because there were times where I wasn’t completely sure if you knew which man you were with.”

Fennec felt like she’d been punched. Their voices had steadily been rising in volume, but now the sudden silence between them felt crushing.

Boba took another step towards her.

“Shand, I’m-”

She held up a shaking hand to stop him.

“You said you’d let me go at any time,” she whispered. “Please. Let me go.”

Boba stepped back and said nothing as she boarded the speeder bike and took off into the night.

She drove right to Crimson Dawn’s headquarters, and was relieved to find them still awake.

“Fennec!” Mira said, surprised. “Everything alright?”

“Is the job offer still good?”

They left that night. Fennec agreed to help them with their delivery to Geonosis, then for one more run. After that she’d be on her own once more. The way she’d been for most of her life. The way she should be.

She held herself together until they reached hyperspace and she excused herself back to her old quarters. In the dark of her small bunk, Fennec cried until she fell asleep. She said she didn’t want her heart to break, yet she’d gone and shattered it into a thousand pieces anyway. When she woke, she allowed the pain to numb her heart and leave her cold. 

It was better this way.

***

In the dark of the Tatooine desert, Boba cried as he grabbed a few of his belongings and returned to the Tusken camp. By the time he arrived, out of tears to shed, he’d allowed his broken heart to turn to stone. He’d been alone before. 

He could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't remember if I said this would get worse before it gets better. But this is it. This is the "worse"


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marauder?
> 
> No. They say he wears armour, but not like the armour of those strangers who used to come here.
> 
> Boba knew “those strangers” referred to Imperial Stormtroopers, but if not them then who was this outsider?
> 
> To my mind, his armour sounds like that of your tribe. The armour you once described to me.
> 
> Boba froze. A Mandalorian was here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the angst. If you're still with me thanks for sticking it out :D

_**~ 6 Months Later ~** _

The camp was quiet, every Tusken there having taken refuge in the shade of their tents. The marauders who plagued the deserts were never out at the hottest part of the day, and the Tusken chief had decided there was no need for his people to be out then either. Better for the warriors to conserve their strength and be in full fighting form when the time came to ride out and try to protect their home from the off-world invaders.

Boba knew he should be in his own tent, resting. He would be riding out with the rest of the warriors before he knew it. But instead he sat on the burning sand staring into the horizon, twisting a length of red cord between his fingers. He’d been sorting through his belongings that morning, in search of something or other. He couldn’t remember anymore. Stuck to the fibres on one of his shirts had been this small length of string, unremarkable in and of itself. Yet it had since thrown him into a deep melancholy. Picking it up curiously, he had a sudden flash of recollection. He remembered many such red cords woven and tied into long black hair that was always arranged into a complex-yet-efficient braid. He remembered untying the cords, loosening the braids and running his fingers through the silky curls that cascaded down  _ her _ back. 

He sighed deeply. Since the day she left, he hadn’t allowed himself to think of her, or to fantasize in this way. Though at first he had little success in his resolution, other than the occasional unintentional dream he hadn’t thought of her at all in weeks. But now, because of this stupid piece of string, Fennec Shand was all he could think about. 

He ought to throw the string away. Flick it into the dunes and let the wind and sand take it. Though his mind compelled him to do it, his treacherous body would not comply.

A voice called out in Tusken, mercifully ending his daydream about the smell of Fennec’s hair and the feel of her skin. Boba greeted the chief, A’Kam, in Tusken then switched to their sign language, in which he was far more proficient. 

_ Is something wrong? _ Boba signed.

_ I have news _ , A’Mak replied.  _ An outsider was seen in a Tusken camp. The tribe of the Canyon Beast. _

_ Marauder? _

_ No. They say he wears armour, but not like the armour of those strangers who used to come here. _

Boba knew “those strangers” referred to Imperial Stormtroopers, but if not them then who was this outsider?

_ To my mind, his armour sounds like that of your tribe. The armour you once described to me _ .

Boba froze. A Mandalorian was here? With the Tuskens? Could this be the same man he sought all those months ago? How many Mandalorians were friendly with Tuskens and had business on Tatooine?

_ Does he seek to stay with the tribe?  _ Boba asked.

_ No, _ A’mak signed.  _ He and his child headed to the settlement they call Mos Pelgo. _

Mos Pelgo? The same settlement that was home to Cobb Vanth, the man who now owned Boba’s old armour? This was too much of a coincidence. Boba needed the full story. A’Mak could sense as much, and told Boba to go and seek his answers. 

He packed up all his gear into two small packs, donned his black cloak, pulling up the hood as protection against the sun, and slung his rifle and gaffi stick over his back. A’Mak offered him a Bantha to ride as a farewell gift, which he accepted gratefully. 

Boba rode through the night, stopping only to rest whenever his Bantha needed it. He spent the night near the same set of caves he and Fennec had found all those months ago, but didn’t dare actually go inside. The next day, by mid-morning, he had arrived at the outskirts of Mos Pelgo. 

Other than a few people milling around outside, it was virtually deserted. Countless human and animal tracks leading to and from the main road told him that the town had been very busy, very recently. He debated venturing into their cantina - every town, no matter how small, had one - to ask questions but thought better of it. That tactic only worked about half the time in Mos Eisley, which was a bustling metropolis compared to Mos Pelgo. If anyone remained in town, they would be unlikely to answer his questions. Considering how far out they were, they might even shoot him on sight.

Who knew how long they would be gone, or if the Mandalorian would even return to this place? He couldn’t afford to wait around and see. 

A trail led away from the settlement and into the desert. The marks of many humans and Bantha’s. There were even some tread marks, indicating they were pulling something heavy. What had this Mandalorian gotten himself into? Boba’s curiosity increased exponentially. 

He followed the trail, guiding his Bantha to walk on top of the marks the others had left behind. It was unlikely anyone was tracking him but he had fallen back into his old bounty hunting habits, and this time around they were proving harder to break. Though in truth he had missed this. There was a quiet beauty in bounty hunting. It gave him a purpose, something he’d been sorely lacking.

_ You’ve got no idea what you want, do you? _

Fennec’s voice rang in his head unbidden, an unpleasant memory of their last conversation. Of all the things she’d said to him, that stung the most. She had a sniper’s precision, with a blaster and with her words. 

After she’d left, he tried to tell himself she didn’t know what she was talking about. That the only reason he’d lost focus was because of her. But even at his lowest, angriest point, he knew that wasn’t true.

He’d lived on Tatooine for years, silently maintaining the only reason he hadn’t left was because of his father’s armour. He couldn’t leave without it. He paid to keep his ship stored at a docking bay, and paid the proprietor extra to make sure it was kept in prime condition. He was ready to leave at any time, just as soon as he got the armour. That was the comfortable lie, but in truth that wasn’t what kept him here. His near-death experience had left him reeling, reluctant to return to the life that had put him in that position in the first place. 

He could tell himself he lost focus because of Fennec, but the day she’d come into his life was the day he’d actually begun to feel hope for the future again. Not just existing, but  _ living. _ He didn’t know what he could have done to make her stay. She wouldn’t have appreciated being pursued, or having her decision questioned. But it didn’t matter what he could have done differently, not when his last words to her would haunt him forever. 

_ I’m not him. There are times I wasn’t sure if you knew what man you were with _ .

He winced as the memory washed over him, drowning him in his own cruelty. She’d confided the most difficult part of her life to him, and at her most vulnerable moment he’d chosen to throw it in her face. He disgusted himself.

A roar in the distance shook him out of his self-loathing and called his attention back to the trail. Just ahead he could faintly see it veer off into a canyon. What could be that way? There were no settlements as far as he-

Another roar. 

And a realization. 

_ Krayt Dragon _ .

Boba tugged on the reins of his Bantha, bringing it to a halt. He needed to consider his next move.

_ They couldn’t have gone into the cave of a Krayt Dragon _ , he thought. The one that lived in these parts was particularly dangerous. If the stories were true, it lived in a now-vacant Sarlacc pit, having eaten the previous occupant. While Boba had no pity for the creature the Dragon had consumed, he was decidedly concerned for the others who dared walk into its lair. Had they done so unintentionally?

He didn’t plan on getting any closer to find out. Being swallowed whole by one foul desert beast was enough and Boba wasn’t eager to repeat the experience. Instead, he guided the Bantha forward past the trail and towards an outcropping. He guided it to the top, where there were mercifully a few plants growing through the rocks. He allowed the creature to graze and relieved it of its burdens. He sat on a stump near the edge and stared out into the desert. 

What would he do if the Mandalorian didn’t survive the encounter? Or this Cobb Vanth. His father’s armour would be lost to him forever.

He heard an almighty roar echoing the direction of the Krayt Dragon and feared the worst. It was angry. The echos subsided and for a moment all was silent. Then another roar broke through the desert air. 

No, not a roar. An explosion. 

Boba leapt to his feet and craned his neck out, as though he could see the source of the sound. Though he couldn’t see much, he could just make out a cloud of dust and sand billowing in the distance. Had the townsfolk actually killed the beast?

He wasn’t about to venture into their midst. He was sorely outnumbered, and any band that could bring down a colossal Krayt Dragon wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. So he remained on the outcropping, keeping watch at the place where the trail had diverged. The suns had already begun their path down towards the horizon, another day coming to an end, before Boba heard anything. A faint hum of an engine. A speeder bike.

He saw a figure round the corner and head right towards him, so he remained still and watched. A glint of sunlight on metal. It was the Mandalorian. He kept an eye on him as he got closer. The man wore armour far newer than Boba’s, and clearly made for him. And if he wasn’t mistaken the entire thing was made of beskar, though it was hard to tell from here. 

Boba would watch the Mandalorian leave, then turn back towards the Krayt Dragon’s lair to retrieve his own armour. Once that was done, he could return to town and find where this Mandalorian was staying, if only to satisfy his own curiosity. There was no way that he was a local, not with armour that new. 

But then he saw something on the approaching speeder bike that made him reassess his plan. Strapped to the back of the bike, among equipment and what appeared to be a giant slab of meat, was Boba’s armour, bundled into netting.

This Cobb Vanth had been no Mandalorian after all. Not if he’d so easily surrendered his armour to a man who had no need of it. This changed everything. Boba would reclaim what was his. He turned away from the edge, full of purpose at last.

***

The job sounded so simple. 

A quick drop in the Outer Rim. Familiar team. No commitment. Easy pay.

But no one told Fennec the job was on Tatooine. 

Since she left that night with Mira and her crew, Fennec kept moving. She hopped from one job to the next, knowing that if she stopped she would only wallow in her own misery. She made a habit of not asking too many questions when she accepted a job. Not anymore. Gone was her efficiency and research. She performed her work with a quiet detachment, and kept to herself. She didn’t bother even learning the names of her various crewmates, even though several had expressed a not-so-subtle interest in getting to know her  _ much _ better. 

She didn’t accept work from the cartels, preferring independent crew, and also never accepted work from the same crew twice. Mira’s was the exception. Fennec returned to the Crimson Dawn crew whenever she needed funds quickly, or she was trying to lie low until fallout from her last exploit blew over.

This trip was different though. She’d been between jobs, taking a day for herself on Lothal, when Mira spotted her in the street. They were looking for security for a run in the Outer Rim. A few days at most, and they’d drop her anywhere she wanted after that. The offer was too good to pass up, and after 5 non-stop weeks with strange crews and stranger worlds, Fennec craved a bit of normalcy.

She and Mira boarded the ship, and Fennec made a beeline for the bunk she’d come to think of as hers. She dropped her pack by the door, as she always did and started to settle in. Everything, from the simple furnishings to the scuffs on the walls felt comforting and familiar. 

An assortment of items stacked on the table caught her eye: a ration packet, a few clean rags, half a bottle of the solution she used to clean her cybernetics, and one of her small knives.

“We kept those for you,” Mira said from behind her. 

“You knew I’d be coming back?”

The Twi’lek shrugged. 

“Seemed like a safe bet.” 

“Are we about to leave?”

“Yeah. Join us?”

Fennec looked back inside the room for a quick moment before shutting the door. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t technically hers, but this was the closest thing she’d had to a home since leaving Tatooine. 

Leaving Boba.

She tried not to think about him. His absence left an aching void in her heart, made worse by the knowledge that she had only herself to blame. She was the one who left. She hoped he was happy, or had found some degree of purpose and meaning. 

_ Let me go. Please. _

She regretted looking back at him before boarding her bike and leaving. She’d never seen him look so defeated and broken-hearted. Because of her.

At the time, she was glad he hadn’t followed her. She wasn’t in the right place to hear anything he had to say then. But there were times since, where she found herself wishing that maybe…

“Still with me, Fennec?” Mira called.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She strode into the cockpit, then paused as she took in the new seating arrangement. Mira sat at the helm, with Niko in the copilot seat. Two of the other seats were occupied by a Miralan and a human, neither of whom she’d ever met before.

“Where are Dedu and Rina?”

Niko snorted.

“Probably off on some lush moon fucking each-”

Mira slapped him upside the head.

“Gah! No! Dedu is my cousin, I don’t want to hear it.”

All through takeoff, Niko continued to find new, inventive ways to gross Mira out, while the Twi’lek cursed loudly that she couldn’t pilot the ship and give him the thrashing he deserved at the same time. The other two members of the crew made quiet conversation with each other. Fennec just took it all in, pleased to have something to listen to other than the regrets in her own head.

_ There were times where I wasn’t completely sure if you knew which man you were with. _

Boba’s voice, hurt and angry came back to her suddenly. She flinched involuntarily at the memory. That was the real reason he’d never come after her. Why she could never expect him to. The night she left hadn’t been the first time she hurt him. He felt it every time she looked at him, every time she let the memory of Cutter come between them. She needed a distraction.

“Where’s the job?” she asked no one in particular.

“Tatooine!” Niko supplied.

Fennec’s eyes darted to Mira, who wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“If I told you, would you have come?”, the Twi'lek asked.

Fennec didn’t reply. Mira didn’t have all the details. Fennec hadn’t told her much that night. But she’d been so distraught, there was no way Mira hadn’t put two and two together that something had gone terribly wrong on Tatooine.

“Excuse me,” Fennec said, standing.

“Fennec-”

“I’m fine. I just need to settle in.”

So much for that distraction. Now all she had to look forward to were endless hours on board this ship, reliving one of the worst nights of her life. Boba’s devastated face swam before her eyes once more.

How could she, for one moment, ever let Boba doubt how much he meant to her? She loved him so much. He made her feel cared for, and safe, and revered in a way no one else had ever managed. He was the reason she had even  _ wanted _ to put her shattered heart back together, and to allow it to beat for someone else. And still, she’d left enough room for doubt to creep in.

She spent months working herself to exhaustion trying to escape it, but finally, in the dark of her small bunk, she finally let herself drown in her own misery. 

***

Boba sat in the cantina in Mos Eisley, frustrated that he’d hit a dead end so quickly. He’d expected some delay in getting here - a Bantha was nowhere near as fast as a speeder bike. What he hadn’t anticipated was that the Mandalorian would leave Tatooine so quickly. By the time Boba arrived in town, all that awaited him was news that the Mandalorian had departed that morning, taking an additional passenger with him. 

The barkeep, with whom Boba was friendly, told him that the mechanic at Hangar 3-5 could probably tell him more, but she’d gone home for the night. Stuck in town until morning, he found himself a room at the nearby inn, then returned to the cantina for a drink to wash away the dust of the road.

He stood at the bar absent-mindedly fiddling with the piece of red string that he’d carried in his pocket since finding it. It was such a stupid thing. He debated dropping in on the floor and forgetting he’d ever found it. Who was he kidding? Pocketing it again, he finished his drink, waved to the bartender, and headed out into the night. 

The inn was just down the road, but he was too wired to return right away. He turned in the opposite direction, determined to walk his frustration away. Despite the late hour, the cantina had been bustling. The streets, however, were deathly silent. They were dark too, as the moons were waning, with the only light coming courtesy of a single lamp outside one of the now-closed shops.

“Over there, I knew that was him,” a gruff voice said.

Boba had enough time to register that the speaker belonged to the same band of marauders that the Tuskens were hunting down, and that he was accompanied by five others. He then quickly registered the drawn blasters and ducked around a corner, drawing his blaster. He had his gaffi stick too, but it wouldn’t be much use for long range. 

He ducked back into the main street and fired. One of the marauders dropped immediately. He killed two more before a searing pain in his arm caused his hand to tense and drop the blaster. He’d been shot. And worse, in the darkness, he couldn’t see where the blaster had gone. He didn’t bother to look, instead whipping his gaffi stick off his back and charging forward. 

He clashed with one of them, who had also surged forward, exchanging a handful of blows before striking him in the face with the sharp, curved end of the stick. The marauders fired at him again, but he kept moving, bobbing and ducking with well-practiced precision. One of their blaster bolts went astray, striking the lone lamp and plunging them all into near-total darkness.

It seemed as though the lack of light disoriented the marauders, because they suddenly began firing in the wrong direction. They must have hit one of their own, because he heard a voice cry out in pain. A woman’s voice. There hadn’t been a woman among them before. Reinforcements were coming. 

Two precise shots were fired, and Boba heard the sound of bodies falling. Perhaps they’d been killed by their commander for their stupidity in shooting her. But although she’d technically saved him, Boba knew this truce wouldn’t last long. He raced forward again, letting his other senses make up for his lack of sight. 

He heard the faintest movement to his left, and brought his stick swinging around. He felt it make contact with something solid. The woman grunted in pain, then grabbed on to the weapon, preventing him from moving it again.

_ Krif, she’s strong,  _ Boba thought, struggling to regain control of the gaffi stick. He kicked out one of his legs and swept hers, dropping her to the ground. He stood above her for a moment, breathing hard, then immediately regretted his complacency as he felt his own leg shoot out from beneath him.

He felt the air leave his lungs as she knocked him to the ground. He shifted in place quickly, intending to bring the gaffi stick down on her head, but her hand shot out to grab it and stop it in its path. 

She rolled on top of him, both hands now firmly gripping the gaffi stick. Once she had him immobilized, she made no further attempt to attack. She simply lay on top of him, catching her breath. The feel of her weight on top of him, and the way her body naturally molded against his felt so familiar he knew at once who his mystery attacker was. 

“Shand?”

“Hi, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand with that we've intersected with the plot of The Mandalorian. I won't recap/repeat too much, we have a show for that!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I trust you,” she said quietly.
> 
> A familiar warmth spread throughout his chest, and he could feel the tiniest of cracks form in his stone heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, things got busy with real life! 
> 
> Happy reading :)

Cutter had often told Fennec that her recklessness would get her killed one day. She was never the type to sit down and make a complete plan before acting. That just wasn’t how her brain worked. She charged into a situation with a vague idea of the outcome she wanted and figured out her plan as she went. That, as she would remind Cutter, was why he made such an effective leader while she was better suited for action. 

That same recklessness overtook her at the cantina on Tatooine, where she’d been minding her own business, nursing a glass of spotchka while the rest of the crew talked around her. With nothing meaningful to add, she chose to watch the crowd instead. An eclectic mix of beings mingled, talked and laughed. A few danced to the music playing in the corner. More than once, she found her eyes drifting towards a table in the corner, the same one she and Boba had been sitting at when Menco arrived on the scene and shattered the fragile peace she’d finally built for herself.

She continued to scan the crowd, not settling on anything or anyone for more than a few moments, until the sight of a familiar, scarred face made her freeze, breath caught in her chest.

Boba.

She fought the urge to call out to him. He wouldn’t want to see her, and she couldn’t blame him. She could almost feel her body reaching out for him against her will. To distract herself she took a large gulp of her drink, and promptly started coughing. 

It wasn’t enough to draw anyone’s attention, the room was far too noisy for that. She still slumped forward, eyes watering, and felt someone - probably Niko - slap her on the back. After a few deep breaths she sat back upright and wiped her eyes.

“You alright?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I-” 

As she spoke, her eyes immediately went back to where Boba had been standing. Only now he was nowhere to be found. Her gaze darted around until she caught a hint of a black robe passing through the door. Though she hadn’t planned on speaking to him, she was disappointed that he’d left so quickly. 

“Fennec?” Mira prompted.

But then a jostling in the crowd caught her attention. A handful of young men were pushing their way to the door, something familiar in their manner of dress setting off alarms in Fennec’s head. 

_ The raiders! _

“Raiders?” Niko asked.

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. If she was right, those men were from the same gang she and Boba had encountered on their way to Mos Pelgo all those months ago. What were the chances they just happened to be leaving at the same time as Boba. She wouldn’t rest until she investigated. She wouldn’t get involved, she just needed to make sure.

“Fennec?” Mira asked again. “Fennec!”

Without offering an explanation, Fennec stood and bolted for the door, driven by the recklessness that was both the bane and the joy of her existence. 

It was that same recklessness that pushed her to get involved in the fight when she saw Boba was severely outnumbered. 

It was also the reason she wound up laying on top of her former lover in the quiet, dark streets of Mos Eisley, every muscle in her body singing at the renewed familiar proximity.

“Shand?” Boba asked.

“Hi boss,” she replied. Hearing him call her “Shand” again made her smile. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.

Now that there was no risk of having her head smashed in, she took her hands off the gaffi stick and he moved it to the side immediately. Otherwise, neither of them made any effort to move, hearts still racing and veins full of adrenaline.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I saw you leaving the cantina, then saw those guys following you and-”

“No, here on Tatooine.”

“Oh. Well…”

She rolled off of Boba and tried to sit up. She felt a burning sensation near her cybernetics and yelped in pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was shot. I guess it’s worse than I realized.”

She gingerly prodded at the wound the blaster bolt left, weirdly upset that they had shot directly through her protective covering. The leather had been expensive, and credits were always low these days.

“I should take a look at it.”

“It’s fine,” Fennec said, trying not to let him hear the waves of pain in her voice.

“It’s not. Show me where it hurts.”

She felt for his hand in the dark, and guided it to her abdomen. He gently brushed over the injury site, then changed to a kneeling position, and slid an arm under her back to help her up.

“Let’s go, I can fix that.”

“I can fix it myself, I’ve been taking care of the cybernetics anyway since-”

She paused as she felt every muscle in his body tense.

“-since you left,” he finished.

“Yeah.”

With his help, she stood up, then looped an arm around him for support. Holding tight to each other, they carefully made their way back out of the darkness.

***

It figured that the very day Boba decided to find and reclaim his armour, the same day he saw the mysterious Mandalorian yet again, would also be the day Fennec dropped back into his life. This felt like a cruel trick of fate. Or of the Force. He could very easily believe that the power wielded by the Jedi was capable of such cruelty. He’d borne witness to their methods firsthand, and had lost his father as a result of them.

But whatever the reason, Fennec was here. And despite the heartache he knew it would bring him, he felt compelled to help her. As long as he didn’t stray off course again.

“Where did you park your speeder?” Fennec asked, limping as they walked through the streets.

“No speeder,” he said. “I’m here in town tonight.”

“Oh. Business?”

“Something like that.”

He wanted to tell her why he was here. She’d shared in part of this mission after all. But he couldn’t bring himself to yet. Seeing her again reopened wounds he swore had scarred over forever.

He guided her through the inn and up to the room he had rented. Mercifully, the public areas were empty, with most patrons already in for the night, or down the street at the cantina. As such the only person to spot them was the Ithorian at the front desk. She narrowed her bulbous eyes at their injuries, watching to make sure they didn’t drip blood over her meticulously clean floors.

He shut the door to the room behind them, and entered a code on the keypad to lock it. By the time Boba set his belongings down and had fetched his emergency kit, Fennec was leaning against the table set just under the window. She peeled off her cybernetic binding and removed her shirt. Her eyes were screwed shut in pain and her fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

“Fennec?” he asked, concerned.

She opened her mouth, possibly to speak, but all that came out was a sharp gasp of pain. Now that they were in a well-lit space, he could see that the marauders had shot straight through her midsection, directly alongside her cybernetic casing. The blaster bolt had nicked it, severing the careful nerve connections he’d made and driving hot sharp metal directly into Fennec’s muscle tissue. He could fix most of the injury with bacta, but he’d need to perform a minor procedure for the rest.

He explained as much to Fennec, and she nodded quickly, tilting her body back as much as she was able to grant him better access. 

“I don’t have sedative, this is going to hurt.”

“It can’t hurt more than it already does.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

She groaned again as a fresh wave overtook her, breaths coming in short rapid bursts. When her breathing had returned to normal, she finally opened her eyes and looked directly into his.

“I trust you,” she said quietly.

A familiar warmth spread throughout his chest, and he could feel the tiniest of cracks form in his stone heart. 

He quickly applied bacta gel to his own injury and wrapped it in a bandage, before picking up his tools to begin the procedure. 

“What happened?” Fennec asked. “To your hand?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “They shot me.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

He began to carefully clean the injured area. His eyes raked her body, and he couldn’t help but notice a few scars on her biceps and shoulders where there hadn’t been any before, and a whole host of bruises in various stages of healing. He gently brushed the worst of them with his thumb.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice low.

“Occupational hazard,” Fennec scoffed.

“What occupation is that?”

“Same as before.”

“This looks worse than before.”

“Trust me, it’s not.” she said, gritting her teeth as he began removing metal from her body. “When we first met, I was pumped full of so much bacta I’m pretty sure some of my childhood scars healed.”

He continued to work, and they lapsed into a silence punctuated only by periodic hisses and yelps. Finally, he reached the most critical stage of the procedure, and paused.

“Now,” he said slowly. “I’m going to move on to reconstructing the connections.”

“Sure.”

“This is going to be the most painful part.”

“Do what you have to.”

But no sooner had he started working than Fennec let out a shout. She bit down on her palm.

“What do I do, Shand?” he asked. 

“Talk…talk to me. Distract me.”

So he did. He told her about his life with the Tuskens, both the bigger picture, and smaller anecdotes. He would stop occasionally, giving her a moment to catch her breath. He hated how much pain she was in, but it would be so much worse if he tried taking her to a medcentre now. They wouldn’t know how to fix this, even if they had the means to numb her pain. 

“So what business brings you here?” Fennec asked, not moving from her spot while Boba wiped down the instruments, his task now completed. Bandages lay beside her, waiting to be applied once the medicine has seeped into her skin.

”Business.” 

“You said. But what kind of business?”

He said nothing as he finished cleaning up, and packed his kit away.

“If you’d rather not-,” Fennec began.

“I’m getting my armour back,” he cut in. “It’s in the hands of that Mandalorian. The one you saw all those months ago.”

Fennec frowned.

“I don’t follow.”

“Our paths crossed again, you could say. And I decided it was time to embrace my past,  reclaim everything that belongs to me.”

He picked up the bandage and began winding it around her abdomen slowly, careful now to put too much pressure or pull too tight.

He tucked in the loose end, and began checking to make sure it all lay flat. He was surprised to feel a warmth over his hands as she covered them with her own, lacing their fingers together.

“Fennec-”

“Boba. I missed you so much.”

She lifted his hands off her bandages and held them in front of her. 

“I missed you, too.”

She sighed in what sounded like relief, then leaned forward slightly, her face dangerously close to his. Despite everything, he felt his heart softening at once. After everything, after all this time, he still loved her. And that was the problem. He needed to stop before it went any further.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back, “we can’t do this.”

“Why?”, she asked, her voice almost dreamlike.

“It’s too hard.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“No, Shand. I can’t do this again.”

“I thought you said you missed me.”

“I did. I do. That’s the problem.”

She said nothing, and just stared at him in confusion.

“My life lacked purpose. For years. I had nothing but the vague idea that I wanted to become the man I used to be. But then I met you.  _ You _ became my purpose. I meant it when I said you were everything to me. But then you left.”

“I was scared.”

“So was I. I was scared for you. But I was also scared because I had to start over with nothing, and figure out what my life looked like without you in it.”

He needed to step out and collect himself. The words that had been sitting on his heart for so long were finally out in the open. Being so close to her left him so vulnerable, that if Fennec asked, he would do anything she asked of him. 

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine. Go lie down, let that bacta kick in. I have to go take care of some things.”

“But-”

“I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

***

Fennec didn’t think she would fall asleep after Boba left. She tossed and turned, replaying Boba’s words in her head. She’d thought she was helping him but she left him feeling as broken as she did. And what had she been thinking? Missing her wouldn’t automatically mean he wanted to kiss her, even though he’d immediately volunteered to help her when she was hurt. Of course he had. That was just the kind of good man he was. Yet despite her near constant stream of self-admonishment, she did eventually drift off to sleep.

When she awoke, it was still dark outside, and the room was empty. She lay with a familiar black cloak draped over her. She sat up carefully and wrapped it around her shoulders, relishing the way it smelled like him. She crept out of the room and down the silent hall to the front desk. A quick inquiry with the Ithorian sitting there, and she found herself headed up for the rooftop.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the flat stone roof, watching her step as she walked. The waning moons left very little light to see by.

“Fett?” she called out.

“You should be sleeping,” a voice replied in the darkness. She found him sitting near the ledge of the roof and sat next to him.

“So should you.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She didn’t say anything to that. The bed was quite obviously big enough for two, and his presence had never disturbed her before. She didn’t press the issue, and instead sat in slightly awkward silence, staring out over the quiet desert landscape.

“Can I ask you something, Shand?” 

“Anything.”

“Did it make things better? Leaving?”

“Well, you’re alive. I’m alive. So I’d say I got what I wanted.”

“And that’s all you need for your life to mean anything?”

“What do you want me to say, Fett?”

“You said you were doing the ’same as before’, what does that mean?”

“Ask me what you really want to know,” she said, a challenge in her voice.

“Fine. Are you back with the syndicates?”

Fennec huffed in frustration. She’d become so used to not explaining anything to anyone, she bristled at the line of questioning, even if she had invited it. 

“Just Crimson Dawn. Odd job here and there.”

“I thought you wanted away from all that.”

“I thought  _ you _ wanted to leave your armour with that man in Mos Pelgo.”

“Don’t turn this around on me. You left me here. You broke my heart. All because you said you wanted to escape the syndicate life, and yet you went running right back to it?"

“And you think what? That my heart didn’t break when I left? That I went because I wanted to? That I didn’t feel like I was dying a little inside every single moment I was gone? I would have stayed with you forever. I won’t apologize for doing what I thought was right, or for trying to keep you safe from the consequences of my life.”

“You should have let me have  _ some _ say in that decision. Why was it only your choice to make?”

“Because sometimes we need to make the hard choices for the people we love!” Fennec shouted.

The sudden spike in volume quieted Boba at once, as did the broken expression Fennec was sure was on her face.

“They made me make an impossible choice about someone I loved before. And I don’t think you fully appreciate how close I came to having to make that same choice again. So I came up with a third option and I took it.”

Silence fell between them again, but a far more understanding one this time. 

“Will they come looking for you?” Boba asked. “Crimson Dawn?”

“No. They knew this contract was a one-and-done. They said they’d drop me anywhere I wanted after this.”

“And where is that?”

“I don’t know. I might just stay here. Find my next job. It’s comfortable here. It kind of feels…”

“Like home?” he asked, a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she said, matching his expression.

She tentatively scooted a little closer to him, and was gratified to see he didn’t move away.

“And you?” she asked. “You’re looking for this Mandalorian here in town?”

“No. He’s already gone. I need to find out where he went. My ship is waiting for me at the docking bay, all I need is a heading.”

“Going alone?”

“Mmm.”

“Well if you need help…I happen to know a fantastic hired gun that just rolled into Mos Eisley looking for work.”

“Shand…”

“Look, I promise, what almost happened in the room…it won’t happen again. I was lost in the moment, I was in pain, I was feeling vulnerable. I’ll be the soul of professionalism.”

“Are you sure?”

“The truth is, I don’t just miss being with you, I miss everything. I miss working with you, talking to you. Even arguing with you.”

They both laughed quietly. 

“Alright then,” Boba said. “You’re hired.”

“Thanks, boss,” she said. 

He stood up and dusted off his pants.

“You better come inside, we leave for the docking back by dawn. Earlier, if we need to fetch your gear.”

“I’ll be down in a moment.”

He was nearly at the door when she called out to him.

“Oh, to answer your question: no.”

“No?”

“You asked me if leaving made things better? It didn’t. Leaving you made my life so much worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they keep it professional? Who knows


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow in the night, he and Fennec had turned to face each other. Their hands rested in the wide space left between their bodies, their fingers woven together. The smallest of smiles crept across Boba’s face. He didn’t care that they were technically late, he was going to preserve this moment for as long as he could. 
> 
> Which, it turns out, wasn’t meant to be for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can they keep it professional, do you think?

They didn’t get as early a start as they’d hoped. 

By the time Fennec had come back inside, Boba had been settled in on the small chair, leaving the bed for her. Naturally an argument had ensued.

“It’s fine, Shand.”

“It’s not fine! What kind of condition are you going to be in tomorrow if you sleep in that chair?”

“I’ve managed before, I’ve slept in worse places.”

“How long ago was that? It’s not like you’re getting younger.”

“Watch it.”

She’d then gone on to point out that it was ridiculous to leave the entire bed to her. They could sleep with their backs to each other just fine, it was certainly large enough. He’d completely run out of arguments, so instead he settled for lying next to her, leaving as large a valley between them as humanly possible. 

Boba knew he was being ridiculous. They were both adults, and Fennec had no problem with it, so why should it bother him? The truth was that despite their promises to maintain a professional relationship, Boba found himself already regretting that stipulation. 

He was still reeling in shock when Fennec had taken his hands and tried to kiss him. The adrenaline of the evening was wearing off, and he was only just processing what seeing her again meant to him. He wanted to stay angry and heartbroken, but he just couldn’t. Deep down he knew she was right to do what she did, and he couldn’t fault her for it. 

But now it was too late. He’d already agreed to a renewed platonic partnership. He had to share a bed with her, lying with their backs to each other on opposite ends, instead of pulling her into his arms and spending the entire night showing her in great detail just how much he’d missed her.

_ Still _ , he thought as he fell asleep at last,  _ it’s better than not having her here at all _ .

Sunlight crept in through the window, warming the entire room. Boba opened his eyes. Somehow in the night, he and Fennec had turned to face each other. Their hands rested in the wide space left between their bodies, their fingers woven together. The smallest of smiles crept across Boba’s face. He didn’t care that they were technically late, he was going to preserve this moment for as long as he could. 

Which, it turns out, wasn’t meant to be for long.

Fennec woke up moments later. She looked at him through half-closed lids, a dreamy expression on her beautiful face. But suddenly, her expression changed. Her eyes widened and she let out a string of curses that made Boba’s ears burn. She withdrew her hand from his, and he felt its absence keenly. 

“We overslept!” Fennec said, leaping out of bed.

“So?” Boba asked. “I wanted to leave by dawn, but it’s not as though my ship is going to leave without me.”

“No! The Crimson Dawn crew! They have my stuff!”

She yanked on her boots and was out the door before Boba had fully sat up.

“Meet you at the catina, boss!” Fennec called as she disappeared down the hallway.

Despite the rather frantic exit, by the time Boba caught up to Fennec outside the cantina, she looked thoroughly unbothered. She was seated on a low stone bench, one of the few that was still in the shade, her bag at her feet and her rifle cradled in her hands. 

“Ready?” Boba asked.

“Lead the way, boss.”

Hangar 3-5 was mostly empty when they arrived. A few pit droids shuffled around, chattering frantically at the new arrivals.

“Would you all  _ pipe down _ out there?”, a woman’s voice shouted. The woman to whom the voice belonged emerged from her office, wiping grease off her hands with a cloth so dirty it was probably only making things worse. 

“Pelli Moto?” Boba asked.

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“I was told you have information on a Mandalorian who passed through here,” Boba said, ignoring her question.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pelli said, a little too quickly. 

Why were civilians always like this? They thought they could get one over on him and it never worked in their favour. 

Boba was about to insist, possibly using his blaster as an added incentive to jog her memory, when he saw Fennec shift out of the corner of his eye. She’d fallen silent as they approached the hangar bay, and hung back behind him while he spoke. 

She took a small step forward and adjusted her grip on her rifle so that it looked ready to use at a moment's notice. She wore her helmet, so her face was unreadable to the helpless mechanic. The overall effect was rather intimidating, even to Boba, so it was little surprise when Pelli Moto changed her tune.

“I don’t know where he went,” Pelli began. 

Fennec shifted her stance again. 

“But, BUT!” Pelli added, throwing her hands up in surrender, “I do know he’s based out of Nevarro. He’ll probably end up back there at some point.”

Boba narrowed his eyes and studied the woman’s face. She was brave, he would give her that. She betrayed no fear on her face. The slight tremor of her hand was the only thing giving her away. Boba cocked his head at Fennec and the two swept out of hangar together.

“Think she was telling the truth, boss?”

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm. I think she _does_ know where the Mandalorian went. But I also don’t think she’s lying about Nevarro.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s a hub for bounty hunters. Both guild and…freelance. If he’s not there, there will be someone who knows how to find him.”

“To Nevarro then.”

***

When Boba had told her that he hadn’t flown his ship, or even really been inside it in years, Fennec expected to spend the bulk of their trip scrubbing every inch of it. It would take hours to reach Nevarro, and it wasn’t as though they had anything else they could do. 

She was noticeably surprised, then, to step on board Boba’s ship, the interestingly-named “Slave I”, and find it immaculate. It was practically gleaming. 

“You didn’t think I would fly this out on a mission caked in sand, did you?” Boba asked, grinning. 

“I don’t know what I thought,” Fennec said truthfully. 

“I paid that docking bay enough over the years, cleaning the ship was the least they could do.”

Something in his tone told Fennec that the cleanliness she now sat in probably had less to do with financial incentive and more to do with the angry owner of the ship wielding a blaster, but she said nothing. 

They didn’t speak again until after they’d jumped to hyperspace. Though the ship was new to Fennec, the basic controls were the same. The two of them fell into old habits easily, managing to perform an entire takeoff sequence without exchanging words. 

This was what she’d meant when she said she missed everything about him. She missed the ease of their partnership, and how well they complimented each other in every aspect of their work. 

_ Like an old married couple _ .

Fennec startled. Where had  _ that _ come from? This was exactly the kind of intrusive thought she shouldn’t be having, not when they had agreed to a platonic partnership. No, not they.  _ She _ had suggested it be kept professional. She knew Boba only went along with the arrangement because she suggested it. After all, he was the one who had taken hold of her hand in the middle of the night - not that she minded. This was her own ridiculous fault, and she would live with the consequences.

“Shand?” 

Fennec snapped out of it. 

“What?”

“Let’s go downstairs, there’s a medkit there and I want to check and see how you’re healing.”

“Right, yeah.”

Fennec followed him down the ladder to the lower level, and was greeted by the sight of several small cells. 

“Charming.”

“Bounty hunter,” Boba said, shrugging.

She scanned the space. Besides the cell, there were a couple of seats, a table, and a large cabinet. She popped it open, then took a step back for a better look. It was chock full of general equipment maintenance tools, polishers, paint and the like. But an entire shelf was dedicated to anything a bounty hunter might need, including a variety of restraints for beings of every shape and size.

Fennec was losing herself in a daydream of exactly what kinds of creative things she and Boba could do with those restraints - if they weren’t strictly colleagues, of course - when Boba himself lay a hand on her shoulder and made her gasp in surprise. 

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Where?”

“Uh. One of the chairs?”

Fennec removed her shirt, unwound the bandage, then sat down in the indicated seats. Boba knelt in front of her, opened the medkit, then peeled back the padding he’d placed over her wound. 

“Healing nicely,” he said quietly. 

“I had a good surgeon,” she replied just as quietly.

“Just going to apply some disinfectant.”

Fennec nodded in agreement, then angled her body to better facilitate it. Stars, it was torture having his hands on her body like this. She longed for him, the ache so pronounced, she was surprised it wasn’t visible to the human eye. She sighed in relief and disappointment when he finished applying a fresh bandage and sat back on his heels.

Though he was no longer treating her, he also made no move to stand. A strange electric spell had settled over them both. She knew that before long something would happen to break it, and she needed to prolong it as long as possible.

“How’s your hand?” she asked, still barely speaking above a whisper. 

“Healing,’ he replied.

“Can I-?”

He placed his hand in her outstretched palm. She examined the blaster wound. It hadn’t gone all the way through, but just left a nasty burn behind. She reached down into the medkit and withdrew the same disinfectant he’d used on her. She applied it carefully, her fingers trailing over the burn lightly. He didn’t stop her. 

She didn’t properly exhale until she let go of his hand, and judging by the sound, neither did he. 

“I…I think I'll refamiliarize myself with the controls,” he said, standing suddenly. He was at the ladder and vanishing out of sight before she had a chance to reply.

“I’ll be here,” Fennec said to no one in particular. She put her shirt and jacket back on, then turned the chair to stare out the window.

She dozed off eventually, lulled by the lights of hyperspace. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time she woke up, but she did know she was  _ extremely _ hungry.

“Fett!” she called up the ladder. “Is there food?”

“Yep. It’s up here, in my pack.”

She joined him in the cockpit, and looked around for the bag in question.

“Over there,” Boba said, pointing without turning. “Ration bars in the small compartment.”

Fennec sat on the floor and started digging around in his bag.

“When we get to Nevarro,” she said, peering into the compartment when her aimless grab had yielded no results, “we need to buy some real food because I am so sick of-”

She still hadn’t found the bars, but the sight of something else brought her up short. A familiar flash of red. She pinched the object between two fingers and drew it out to examine. 

It was one of the cords she used to tie her hair.

“Boba?”

“Yes, fine, Shand. We’ll get some real food when we get there.”

She stood up and walked up to the pilot’s seat where Boba sat.

“No. Why do you have this?”

He turned the chair, and his eyes widened when he saw what she held. 

“Are you sure that didn’t just fall in there?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I’m not wearing any today, Fett.”

He looked down and said nothing.

“You kept this?” she asked, softly. “The whole time I was gone?”

“I only found it a couple of days ago. I kept telling myself to get rid of it, but…”

“But?”

He stood and took her hand.

“I never stopped carrying you with me. I wanted to forget you. I had just convinced myself that I might be able to someday. But when I found that, it was like finding a little piece of you, and I didn’t want to let it go.”

“All that because of a piece of string?” Fennec said, a lump forming in her throat.

“No. All that because of  _ you _ , cyar’ika.”

“I’m still your cyar’ika?” she asked, tears in her eyes threatening to spill over.

“It’s only ever been you, Shand.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, but she lay a hand on his chest to stop him. He had reminded her of something. Something that had been bothering her since the day she left.

“Boba, before you do anything. When I was leaving, before, you told me there were times you felt I got you confused for Cutter. That I didn’t know which man I was with.”

“Shand, I was hurt, I didn’t mean-”

“No, let me finish. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel that way. Cutter was a good man, and I loved him very much.”

Boba said nothing, though she could detect a trace of worry in his expression.

“But I want you to know. What we have is different. I have never loved  _ anyone _ as much as I love you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I mean every word, Boba. It’s you. It will always be you.”

She cupped his face with her hands and looked into his eyes, as though she could convince him on the sincerity of her expression alone. 

It must have worked, because the next thing she knew, he was pulling her close and kissing her fiercely and deeply. Their hands dug into the others' clothing, as though they were worried they were about to be torn apart at any moment. Which considering their luck, was not an entirely invalid concern.

They broke apart, breathing hard, and a mischievous smile broke across Fennec’s face. Her eyes darted to the bunk at the back of the cockpit before looking back at Boba.

“I thought we were keeping things professional?”

“You’re absolutely right,” Boba said, now planting open-mouthed kisses all over her face. “Why don’t you, very professionally, take your clothes off and get on the bed, and I’ll do the same?”

“Yes, boss!” she laughed, planting a final kiss on his lips before rushing to comply. 

What seemed like an eternity later, she lay on the bunk, her knees on either side of Boba’s hips, which were flush with hers. She could feel his cock pressing against her core, and didn’t think she could take much more waiting. Six months had been long enough. She fidgeted underneath him, as he kissed her favourite spot on her neck. 

“Boba,” she groaned. “I need you…I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

“Who calls the shots here, Shand?”

Her scream of frustration turned into one of absolute pleasure as he shifted position and pushed his cock into her aching core. It felt so satisfying, she thought she might cry with relief. 

“Better?”

“So much,” she muttered. “So much better. Stars, I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Boba said, slowly beginning to thrust. “I forgot how good you feel. Tried to make myself remember, when I was alone. It wasn’t the same.”

“You thought about me?” Fennec panted.

“You didn’t think about me?” he asked, palming one of her breasts and tweaking her nipple. Her body convulsed and her walls clenched around him once. She was so sensitive to his touch, and had been without for so many months, that everything felt amplified. She wouldn’t last much longer, at this rate.

“I thought about you all the time,” she gasped. “I would make myself come night after night, whispering your name.”

“Show me.” 

“What? No, no, no, don’t stop.”.

“Oh, I’m not going to stop,” Boba growled, pushing into her harder. “I want you to play with that pretty clit of yours and make yourself come. I want to watch while you fall apart with my name on your lips. I want to feel you when you scream for me.”

She’d felt herself getting closer to her peak, and hearing him command her in that way nearly sent her over the edge. She brought shaking fingers between her legs and began to tease herself. The sensation was overwhelming, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“That’s it, Shand,” Boba said. “Just like that. Does that feel good?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Are you close?”

“ _ Yes.” _

“Come for me, Shand. Show me how good you feel.”

She came hard, then, a loud cry of his name ripping from her throat. He fucked into her through her aftershocks until he fell apart himself. All throughout, she whispered his name like a prayer. He collapsed on top of her, and it was several long moments before either of them had the energy to say anything, or move at all. 

“Are you alright, cyar’ika,” he asked at last. “It wasn’t too much too fast?”

“That was the best I have  _ ever _ felt.”

She pretended to consider.

“Maybe I should leave more often,” she teased. 

“Don’t you dare. I’ve got binders on this ship, you know. I could just keep you here.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Should I go get them?”

Fennec was just thinking what a good idea that would be when the shipboard computer beeped, and they dropped suddenly out of hyperspace.

They both sat up in bed and peered out the window.

“Is that-” 

“Nevarro,” Boba said. “We’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not very long, as it turns out...
> 
> I almost interrupted that little scene with some plot. My beta reader threatened to fight me.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something had felt off since they returned, and he wouldn’t let the distance between them grow so great that she thought she had no choice but to leave again. 
> 
> “I feel guilty,” she whispered. “You trusted me all those months ago, and I couldn’t put that same faith in you.”
> 
> “And what does all this prove?” he asked, propping himself up slightly. 
> 
> “Trying to show you that I do. Trust you, that is. That I was wrong not to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Couple of things:
> 
> 1\. Please note THERE ARE NEW TAGS. This late in the game, yes. It was finally time to pay off all those hints about binders. 
> 
> If light bondage and spanking are NOT your thing in any way, that's totally cool. Skip on down to the end notes, where I will summarize the important parts of this chapter. It's mostly smut, you won't miss much ;)
> 
> 2\. If you ARE sticking around to read this chapter, it's my first time writing any bondage smut so please be nice :) 
> 
> OK enjoy! *runs and hides*

The Magistrate of Nevarro, a man by the name of Greef Karga, was waiting for them when they landed on the outskirts of the planet’s largest settlement. He had greeted them boisterously, then ushered them into his office, where he took on a far more businesslike tone.

“Look, I’m trying to turn things around here,” he said seriously. “I can’t just have two brand new bounty hunters showing up out of the blue like this. What would my regulars say?”

“I’m not a bounty hunter,” Fennec shrugged.

“I’m not exactly ‘new’,” Boba said.

This made Karga study him more closely. 

“You an old clone trooper?”

Boba hesitated. People tended to have strange reactions around old clones. Fennec reached out under the table and squeezed his hand once, in reassurance. 

“Clone, yes. Trooper, no.”

“Defected?”

“No.”

“You don’t say much, do you?”

“Not when there’s nothing to say.”

“We were hoping,” Fennec said, cutting through the increasingly tense conversation, “that you could help us locate someone.”

“I’m sorry, I have no fobs to give out.”

“No. We’re looking for a bounty hunter based out of here,” she continued. “A Mandalorian.”

It was obvious Karga wasn’t much of a bounty hunter himself. His entire face and body revealed the truth before his voice had a chance to lie. Not that he didn’t try.

“There used to be an entire Mandalorian cohort on Nevarro,” he said vaguely. “All gone now.”

Boba looked at Fennec in surprise.

“An entire cohort?” he whispered. 

Fennec shrugged, then returned to Karga.

“But this one would have been a bounty hunter reporting to you. Brand new armour, pure beskar…?”

Karga swallowed nervously. 

“What do you want with them- HIM. Him. What do you want with him.”

This man truly would never survive as a bounty hunter. Despite the awkward attempt at correction, Boba knew at once where his worries lay.

“I don’t mean his child any harm. He has something, armour that belongs to me. I would like it back.”

“Armour?”

“My father’s.”

“Are you-?”

“A Mandalorian,” Boba replied, sitting a little straighter. He’d had little reason to claim himself as such, particularly recently. But he did so now with a small swell of pride in his heart.

Karga considered.

“Fine. The Mandalorians I’ve known have always been true to their word, so I’ll believe you when you say you don’t mean them harm. Just know, that if you’re lying, I _will_ find out and make you regret it.”

Boba and Fennec said nothing to that. Karga was apparently satisfied regardless. 

“Now. He hasn’t been around these parts in…months. But, I could probably find a way for you to track that old ship of his. Provided it hasn’t fallen to pieces yet.”

Karga paused and stroked his neat beard, lost in thought.

“Yes. Ok. Give me until tomorrow, I’ll have that information for you. I’ll come by your ship in the morning.”

Boba looked as though he’d like to say something on the subject, but Fennec squeezed his hand again.

Boba and Fennec stood at once and thanked him, then headed outside into the sunshine.

“It’s dry here,” Fennec observed. “Drink?”

“Read my mind,” Boba said. He wavered for the briefest moment, then stepped forward and took her hand.

For the first time in a long time, since that morning Menco found them on Tatooine, they were able to just _be_ for a while. They had nowhere to rush off to immediately, no one chasing them, nothing looming on the horizon. 

They found a small dining establishment that doubled as the local bar. A drink turned into them having something to eat - real food, no less. After stocking up on supplies, they walked back to the ship slowly. They had hours to kill, after all. 

Back onboard the ship, once everything was put away, Fennec started to pull away again. That strange distance had disappeared in the wake of their quick and passionate reunion, replaced by a cloud of post-coital bliss. The cloud had burned away, and though it was clear there was still a great deal of love between them, he wasn’t sure why she still pulled away.

Boba was seated on the edge of the bunk, while Fennec had been down below. She climbed up and sat next to him. He placed a hand on her leg, in what he hoped was a reassuring way. 

“How’s your hand?” she asked, lifting it and unwrapping the bandage. 

“It’s healed. I meant to remove that, it just slipped my mind.”

She discarded the cloth on the floor and examined the wound. It would probably leave a scar, another to join the many that decorated his skin, but at this point what was one more? She pressed a kiss to it, then turned his hand over and kissed his palm. She traced along the scars on his wrist and arm, dotting them softly with her lips.

“Shand-” he began.

“Shhh.” 

She gently pushed him backwards so that he lay on the bed, his legs dangling off at the knee. She climbed on top of him and kissed his mouth softly. He didn’t try to stop her, he didn’t want to. Instead he wove his fingers into her hair and forced her lips open. She relaxed, and he seized the opportunity to flip them around so he lay on top of her. 

He broke the kiss and locked eyes with her. 

“You don’t have to try and fuck me every time you don’t know what to say, you know,” he teased.

“What if I just want to?”

“I’ve got no objection, but are you sure that’s all this is?”

She looked away, not even trying to move out from under him. Something had felt off since they returned, and he wouldn’t let the distance between them grow so great that she thought she had no choice but to leave again. 

“I feel guilty,” she whispered. “You trusted me all those months ago, and I couldn’t put that same faith in you.”

“And what does all this prove?” he asked, propping himself up slightly. 

“Trying to show you that I do. Trust you, that is. That I was wrong not to.”

“Is this you admitting you were wrong?” Boba teased.

“Shut up,” she said, a small smile appearing on her face despite her attempt to stay serious. 

“I’m not letting you fuck me just because you feel guilty.”

Fennec looked so offended, Boba was certain if her blaster were on hand she would have reopened the wound on his hand and several others besides.

“That is NOT what this is-” she began acidly.

“Good.”

He took her mouth with his, hungrily pushing her lips open. Any words she’d been about to say died on her tongue as she moaned quietly into his mouth. He planted one of his legs between hers, and deliberately pressed his knee against her core. She ground down against his leg, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to urge him closer.

They broke apart. Not giving her a chance to breathe, he immediately drifted down her body to her neck, kissing her in the same place that always made her gasp in a way he found irresistible. 

Sure enough, the moment his lips pressed against that sensitive spot, he heard his name escape her lips, a plea and a prayer all at once. His cock, which had hardened somewhat when she first started kissing him, grew harder now. 

She ground on his leg in desperation, and reached around to grab helplessly at his waistband. 

“More, Boba. I need you. Please.”

“Shand,” he murmured, his lips leaving marks over her collarbones, “do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me to make you feel good? To make you come?”

“ _Yes.”_

In a single fluid motion born from years of honing his reflexes, he grabbed her hands and slammed them down on the mattress above her head, his fingers locked with hers.

“Then hands to yourself like a good girl, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Her eyes, blown wide with arousal, suddenly focused into a wicked glint.

“I have an idea,” she said.

***

Fennec lay back on the bed, heart hammering in her chest as she waited for Boba to return. She heard him moving around on the lower level, looking for exactly what he needed to fulfil her request. Adrenaline surged in her veins, and her stomach fluttered in excitement.

She’d been curious about finding more sensual applications for binders since Boba had jokingly threatened to use them on her once. She’d never had the chance to experiment with a partner before. Anyone after Cutter was no more than a fling, and she trusted none of them enough to restrain her in any way. 

But she trusted Boba.

He climbed back up to the bunk and sat on the edge again. She sat up and rested her back against the bulkhead that substituted for a headboard.

He held out his hands and showed her what he’d brought.

“These are mag-cuffs,” he explained. “I can fix them to each other, or to any metallic surface, which in this case…”

He indicated the headboard she was leaning against. Though she knew how mag-cuffs worked, she appreciated him taking the time to explain them to her in context.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, if you’ve changed your mind. I’ll drop them on the floor right now and find a hundred other ways to make you scream.”

“I’m sure,” Fennec said, brushing a hand over the cuffs.

“We can stop anytime, alright?”

Fennec nodded.

“No, I want you to say it.”

“We can stop anytime. Maybe we should have a code phrase? Something neither of us would say in the heat of the moment?”

They thought for a moment, then Boba grinned.

“How about ‘Calican?” he said, laughing at Fennec’s shocked expression. “If you start shouting _his_ name then I’ll know _something’s_ wrong.”

“You are a bad man,” she said, swatting at him. “But I suppose it works.”

“Then hold out your hands, Shand.”

She extended her hands towards him, palms up. He disengaged the mechanism so both cuffs fell open long enough for him to close them around Fennec’s wrists. Her hands dropped to the bed at once. She hadn’t expected them to be so heavy. The odd time someone actually managed to get binders on her before, she’d been so roughed up she doubted she would have noticed if a varactyl decided to sit on her chest.

“How do they feel?” Boba asked.

“Heavy,” she admitted, raising her wrists again to test the weight. “But comfortable otherwise.”

“Good. Arms up.”

“Why?”

Boba raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Fennec sighed and raised her arms.

“Good,” Boba said again. He ran his hands along her waist, gathering the fabric of her shirt in his hands. In one fluid motion, he peeled it off her body and threw it behind him.

“You could have just said-”

“That defeats the purpose. What happened to trusting me?”

“I do, but-”

“That’s it.”

Boba dug into his pocket and produced a strip of cloth. It looked like the same sort of soft dark linen his robe was made of. He leaned forward and wrapped it over Fennec’s eyes, effectively cutting off her sight.

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked, his lips pressed against her ear, a hand splayed on her spine.

“You are.”

“Who’s the one who’s going to take care of everything?” 

His other hand travelled along her leg and up her thigh, coming to rest on her mound. The loss of one sense heightened all her other ones. Her hips twitched reflexively in response to his touch, which was already sending jolts of electricity through her.

“You are, boss,” 

“Good girl. I’m glad I brought that with me. I would have just covered your mouth instead, but then I couldn’t do this.”

His lips brushed hers softly. She responded enthusiastically and cupped his face, no longer feeling the weight of the binders. He took hold of her wrists, and something clicked on the cuffs. He then lifted her hands off his face and brought them swinging back towards the bulkhead. Fennec heard the sound of something making contact with metal, and tried to move her arms. She couldn’t. They were spread out wide, but not so wide that it strained her shoulders. Her wrists were level with her head.

“Comfortable?” Boba asked.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said as he sat back and slowly peeled off her boots and dropped them one at a time to the floor with a loud thud that made her flinch. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and peeled them off her legs, his pace still torturously slow. 

“Just the pants?” she asked, a note of dismay in her voice. Boba reached up and snapped the band of her underwear against her skin. 

“So greedy,” he chastised. “You won’t even let me enjoy myself a bit first? After all I’m doing for you?”

“Sorry, boss.”

“That’s better.”

He straddled one of her legs, his hardening cock pressing against her thigh, and his knee once again agonizingly pressed against her sex. He pushed her breastband up, and her nipples pebbled instantly at the exposure to the cool air. 

He placed one hand at the top of her spine, forcing her back to arch, and lifting her breasts higher in the air. He took one in his mouth, sucking and biting lightly with his teeth, while he fondled her other breast. She rolled her hips against his knee with increasing desperation, unrestrained sighs escaping from her lips. 

“Take what you want, Fennec,” Boba mumbled, kissing his way across her chest to her other breast, “Make yourself come while I play with your tits. Can you do that for me?”

“Mmmm,” was all she could manage. She ground harder against his knee and was gratified to feel him return the pressure in kind. 

“Show me what a good girl you are,” he whispered, "show me you can do as you're told." He cupped both her breasts and teasing her nipples, his lips pressed against the corner of her open mouth. Her sighs gave way to gasps as she crested into a gentle orgasm, her hips spasming against his leg. She relaxed utterly breathless, and Boba sat back, letting a chill hit her chest once more.

“You’ve made a mess of my pants, Shand,” he scolded.

“S-sorry,” she gasped reflexively. 

“I ought to put you over my knee.”

“Please,” Fennec whispered before she could stop herself.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she said little louder. “I want-”

He reached above her and disengaged the cuffs from the headboard. Her hands dropped at once by her side. She rolled her shoulders a couple of times to loosen them up.

“Shand?” he asked.

Her breastband had shifted into a slightly painful position under her arms. She pulled it over her head and threw it to the side.

“Good now.”

“Then I want you to lie down over my knees. Follow my voice.”

Fennec shut her eyes behind the blindfold. The fabric wasn’t thick enough to totally obscure him from view, and it felt almost like cheating. She crawled forward until she bumped against his leg. She crawled overtop his lap and lay down, pushing herself back up immediately. The awkward angle pressed on her cybernetic casing and caused a sharp jolt of pain. 

“I can’t lie down this way,” she said, and Boba leaned away briefly.

“Up,” he said. He placed something along his leg. Fennec reached out and felt one of their pillows resting there. She lay back down, this time without the pain.

“Better?” 

“Much.”

The second she spoke, he ripped her soaked underwear off. 

“That’s good. Because I want you to feel every second of this."

He ran a calloused palm over her ass and smacked it lightly. Fennec whimpered, disappointed. Boba laughed. He brought his hand swinging down and spanked her properly, the smack reverberating through the space. She cried out, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure overcoming her.

“ _That_ ,” Boba said, “was for the soiled pants. But I’m not done with you yet.”

“No?”

“No,” he said, running his hand over her again. “I’m thinking…One for every month you made me live without you. Every month you deprived me of all of this.”

He dipped his hand between her legs, just barely brushing against her damp slit.

“Six months without being able to touch you, or fuck you, or taste you,” he continued, removing his hand. Fennec heard him bring his fingers to his mouth, emphasizing his point even though she couldn’t see him. 

“Does six sound fair, Shand?” She nodded. “Count for me, then.”

His hand smacked her ass again.

“One,” she gasped. “T-two. Three.”

She counted out all six, her gasps becoming increasingly breathless and sounding more and more like moans. By the time she reached six, she was so aroused, she was dripping with want.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Boba said, rubbing a soothing hand over her smarting skin.

“I have, boss.”

He engaged the magnets on the cuffs again so that they stuck to each other. He turned her over and guided her hands towards a post at the foot of the bed. 

“Hold on to this,” he ordered. He lifted her legs so that her knees draped over his now-bare shoulders. She rubbed her heels along his back feeling every familiar scar that she loved so much. He gently caressed her thighs and kissed them along the inside.

“You took your punishment so well, Fennec. I think it’s time for a reward.”

She knew what he meant, but that didn’t stop her from gasping out loud when he brought his mouth to her clit. He licked and sucked her bundle of nerves before dipping his tongue inside her. She felt him hum with satisfaction, the sound reverberating up through her body. He devoured her, coaxing her to the edge with his mouth alone, his hands gripping her thighs so hard she thought they might bruise.

Alternating between rough licks and tender kisses to her clit, Boba pushed her over the edge. She came with a hoarse whimper, her legs squeezing around his head as he kissed her through the aftershocks.

No sooner had she relaxed her grip on him than he’d crawled up along her body and kissed her, his mouth covered in the taste of her. She licked and bit at his lower lip, a satisfied smile on her face.

She was still coming down from her high when Boba slipped two fingers between her folds, and pushed into her. 

“Wait, Boba-”

“You know what to say if you want me to stop,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper and curling them, drawing a long moan out of her as he did. “So. Do I stop, or do you want to come again?”

“I want to come,” she whimpered. 

“Then be a good girl and spread your legs a bit for me.”

He stroked her already swollen core, circling her clit and building her back up again. In no time at all, she could feel the familiar pressure building again and she came apart for the third time that day, pleasure wracking her body.

But he didn’t withdraw his hand as he normally did. He continued to push his fingers into her, adding a third to make her feel even fuller. He continued to apply small teasing circles to her clit.

“You can give me one more, can’t you, Shand?”

“I can’t, it’s too much, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said, dotting her face with kisses. “You’re so beautiful. So strong. You can do this for me, can’t you? One more, _cyar’ika._ ”

She was already so far gone that in no time at all, she was trembling in the aftershocks of another orgasm. He finally withdrew his hand and disengaged the magnets again so she could lower her arms. 

He pushed the blindfold off, and she shut her eyes against the sudden brightness. He softly pressed his lips to each of her eyelids then pulled her into his arms. 

“We can stop if you want to,” Boba offered, stroking along her ribs.

“I don’t think so,” Fennec said. “What about you?”

She slipped one of her still-cuffed hands down his body and wrapped her fingers around his cock. It was hot, and hard, and if his hiss was any indication, it was getting uncomfortable. 

“Why did you let it go on so long, boss?” she scolded, running her fist up and down his length. “You need to think of yourself once in a while. How can I trust you if you let yourself be this reckless?”

“Stop, Shand.”

“That’s not our code word,” she shrugged.

He grabbed her wrists and stood, dragging her off the bed with him. He raised her hands high above her head and slammed them against the wall. She heard the magnets click into place and once again she couldn’t move her arms.

“You’re not the one in charge here,” he growled, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist. He thrust up into her roughly, his hips snapping against hers so quickly she barely had time to react. She let out a single strangled groan, that turned into a jumble of moans, pleading, and half-nonsensical comments.

Despite her overstimulation, she could feel a growing pressure in her abdomen. It travelled up her body and tore out of her throat, Fennec crying Boba’s name for all she was worth. Sometime during her aftershocks, he spilled inside her and she went listless and limp in his arms. He pressed her more fully against the wall, supporting her with one hand as he undid the cuffs with the other. They fell to the floor, completely forgotten. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he carried her back to the bed. 

Her eyes were half-closed in exhaustion, and all she wanted to do was sleep. 

“Fennec,” Boba said gently. “Fennec, look at me.”

She fought to open her eyes. 

“How do you feel? What do you need?”

She hadn’t considered that she might actually _need_ anything beyond sleep, until she ran her tongue around her mouth. It felt like she’d eaten a mouthful of sand.

“Water?” she asked, tentatively.

He brought it to her at once, along with a clean tunic, and some warm damp cloth.

He helped her clean herself up, before doing the same for himself. After a few sips of water and a trip to the fresher, she’d recovered enough of her wit to notice the other thing he’d brought with him.

“I think the medkit is a little much, it was only some spanking.”

“It’s for your wrists, Shand.”

She peered down at her wrists for the first time since the cuffs had come off. Though they hadn’t exactly dig into her skin, they left behind angry-looking red welts. He applied a little gel to it and wrapped them up, neatly tucking in the end of the bandages. 

“Thank you,” Fennec said, stroking his cheek.

“It was the least I could do, they were my binders.”

“No. For all of it.”

“Today?”

“ _All_ of it.”

“I love you, _cyar’ika_. I hope I never give you cause to forget just how much. And you?”

“Of course I love you.”

“But do you trust me?”

“I trust you with my heart, with my safety, with my life. With everything.”

The day had gotten away from them, and the lone sun on Nevarro was already setting. She lay in bed, watching it dip below the horizon, Boba’s arms around her as he lulled her to sleep telling her every single thing he loved about her.

***

“Am I interrupting something?”

Greef Karga’s voice broke through their romantic haze, as he strode on board the Slave I the next morning. Boba sat up to greet him, while Fennec pulled the blanket further up around herself.

“This is for you,” he continued, handing a disk to Boba. “Feed that to your ship’s computer and you should be able to locate Mando.”

“Thank you,” Boba said sincerely, not questioning why Karga called the mysterious Mandalorian by his creed and not his name. 

“If you two are ever in need of work, you know where to find me. The town is still standing after you stayed here overnight, so I wager I can trust you.”

The Magistrate retreated down the ramp, and he’d hardly stepped off of it before he shot out of bed and dressed. Fennec was slower, taking her time to rise, and disappearing into the fresher for longer than usual.

Boba guided them out of the atmosphere before they decided to give the disk a try. The programming on the disk was fairly straightforward, and once it was input, the Slave I’s systems seemed to take over and do most of the work for them. Boba threw the ship into hyperspace, then turned his attention to Fennec, who had just joined him. Her hair was freshly washed and braided, and she looked relaxed and at ease.

“You sure you’re alright, Shand?” he asked, pulling her into his lap and massaging her shoulders.

“I told you, I’m fine!” She rested her cheek against him. “I would have said something yesterday if I wasn’t.”

He kissed the inside of one of her wrists, his lips brushing against skin that until recently had been pink and puckered from the binders.

“Any soreness?” he asked, tracing his fingers along the tops of her thighs.

“Did you know bacta is good for more than just cuts and bruises?” she said by way of a reply.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her like that for hours, until the ship signaled that they were dropping out of hyperspace. 

“Tython? I don’t know it. Have you ever been?”

“No,” he replied. “But I’ve heard stories. It was sacred to the Jedi.”

“ _Jedi?_ What kind of Mandalorian is this?”

“I don’t know.”

They broke through the planet’s atmosphere, still following the signal from the Mandalorian’s ship. 

A glint on the surface caught Fennec’s eye.

“There! What’s that?”

Amid the rocks and dust stood a lone armoured figure. Some distance behind him, on a hilltop, a strange blue light was emanating into the sky. 

“That’s him,” Boba said. “Is that the same man you saw?”

“It is.”

The Mandalorian watched them as they approached the surface, and landed in a cloud of dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the chapter, here's what you missed: Boba and Fennec went to Nevarro following Pelli's tip. Greef Karga gave them a program that will help them find the Razor Crest. After some sexytimes, they make it to Tython, where Mando and The Child are, and we've officially caught up with Chapter 14 of the show!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I promise the next chapter will NOT be solely a recap of the episodes, so don't worry about any of that :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This wasn’t what you signed up for.”
> 
> “Yes it was. A deal is a deal right?”
> 
> “We don’t know how this is going to go.”
> 
> “We’ll figure it out,” she said, squeezing his hand through his glove. “Don’t worry, boss, I don’t scare easy. You know that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Thanks for the love you showed the last chapter <3 It really meant a lot!
> 
> You may have noticed the count went up again, BUT I promise that's the last time. I mean it!
> 
> We're intersecting with one episode of The Mandalorian today, and I tried to make it less of a recap and more of a POV thing on my favourite bits

“This can’t be right, can it?” Fennec asked, consulting the computer screen. “They can’t be this desperate for a child that they would offer a bounty this high.”

“There’s no telling what a desperate person might do. This child must be important somehow,”

“How do we know we can trust him?” Fennec asked as Boba lowered the Slave I some distance away from the Mandalorian.

“We don’t.”

“I’ll keep my eye on his friend,” Fennec said, shouldering her rifle, “just while you talk to him.”

“Karga said that was his child,” Boba said, a warning in his voice. Fennec rolled her eyes.

“I’m not actually going to shoot him. We just need to…persuade him to listen.”

They stepped off the ramp and parted ways, Fennec donning her helmet, and Boba pulling up his hood. Boba fired a round of blasts from his rifle to distract the Mandalorian while Fennec slipped up a hot, dusty ridge and lay down on the rocks. She trained her scope on the figure some distance away, the one causing blue light to shoot up in the air. 

Given what Boba had told her, she expected to see a human child. The description on the bounty posted bounty had told her otherwise, but Fennec wasn’t sure what to believe. When she saw a small green creature, with two large pointed ears sitting absolutely still on the small rock, surrounded by blue light, she admitted that perhaps the holonet had been right for once. 

While her eye was trained on the child, she kept an ear on the conversation below. Her heart froze in her chest when the Mandalorian threatened to shoot Boba, and she had to remind herself that if it was anything like the last time they’d met, he would at least hear Boba out.

She called out to the Mandalorian, then smirked inside her helmet when he recognized her voice at once. He sounded surprised, and no wonder, considering the state he’d left her in. When the men agreed to a ceasefire, she disengaged her rifle and joined them, removing her helmet so the Mandalorian could see her more clearly. Though his face was concealed, the way he stepped away from her told her everything she needed to know.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she quipped.

“You were dead!” he said, shock registering through the voice modulation on his helmet.

“She was left for dead on the sands of Tatooine,” Boba said, “as was I. But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched.”

“In my case, Boba Fett was that fate,” Fennec said, uncovering her cybernetics for the Mandalorian to see. “And I am now in his service.”

She swallowed the urge to laugh at the expression that flashed across Boba’s face. When the Mandalorian still refused to return the armour to Boba, they turned to veiled threats, then finally an offer to keep the little one safe. They reached an immediate unspoken agreement when a troop transport flew overhead and unloaded a squad on Stormtroopers.

***

_ This is more like it _ , Boba decided, as he lay in wait for any Stormtrooper foolish enough to try him. He and Fennec had taken out as many as they could together, before splitting up to match the movements of the soldiers. 

He clutched his gaffi stick and waited. Waited until he heard the distinct shuffle of plastoid armour behind a rock, at which point, he brought the stick to bear, killing the man before he hit the ground. No more ducking through cities, and narrow alleyways and darkness. He thrived on the open battlefield. Some thought it presented more vulnerabilities, and perhaps they were right.

But when you were as good as he was, the only disadvantage belonged to your opponent. 

He was tempted to call out to Fennec when one of the troopers - one too far away for him to reach - began to fire on her with a heavy repeating blaster. But he needn’t have worried. Instead, he felt a rush of pride as he watched her send a massive boulder tumbling downhill, eliminating anyone foolish enough to try and kill her. 

He finished off the last of the troopers, standing surrounded by mangled bodies wearing a cheap, offensive parody of the armour his father had been so proud of, the armour he distinctly remembered seeing everywhere in his youth. 

Boba took quick stock of his surroundings. The fight had led him right to the Mandalorian’s ship, which by some miracle had been left with the ramp open. 

A deal was a deal. He would reclaim what was his today. 

He slipped away into the dark interior of the Mandalorian’s ship. It had looked roughed up on the outside, not uncommon for ships belonging to bounty hunters whose work was infrequent or so wide-reaching that consistent maintenance was impossible. Yet somehow the interior looked even worse. Boba knew ships were not sentient beings, yet couldn’t help but wonder if the ship was partially held together with sheer willpower. 

The ramp led directly into the cargo hold, which was fortunate. He had no time to waste searching for what was rightfully his and should have been handed over right away. He knew Mandalorians could be stubborn, but this one was something else. He scanned the dark room looking for a familiar flash of green, spotting it at last still in the netting and leaning against some crates.

He tore the netting open and ran his hands across the familiar painted beskar. It looked terrible, far worse for wear than he would have expected. Some of that was no doubt due to the acid from the Sarlacc, but the rest he laid squarely at the feet of those who’d chosen to wear the armour and not care for it as it required. 

Blasterfire from outside called his attention to the present, as did the sound of another troop transport landing nearby. He quickly strapped the leg guards on over his loose pants, letting his robe obscure them from view. The chest plate, arm guards and pauldrons went overtop the robe, as did the jetpack. He ensured that he was in possession of all his weapons, then finally picked up the helmet. 

After so many years without seeing it, beholding the helmet once again felt almost like looking at his father’s face. For a moment, he ceased to be the man he was, and felt once more like the small boy he’d been on Geonosis, the one who’d seen his whole world ripped from him in an instant with a cruel swing of a Jedi’s blade. As he’d done then, he pressed the helmet to his forehead and closed his eyes, momentarily acknowledging his father. He then flipped the helmet around and slipped it on. He was needed out there, and he’d be damned if he let himself lose everything again. 

***

Fennec rarely let herself feel intimidated or outnumbered anymore, but this was close to becoming one of the times she made an exception. She gladly fought side by side with the Mandalorian, but the arrival of a second troop transport had snatched victory right out from under them. 

She cast her eyes about, looking for Boba, but he was nowhere to be found. A familiar worry nagged at her again, but she pushed it aside. She needed to trust him and trust that he would be alright.

Stormtroopers advanced on her and the Mandalorian, and they both raised their weapons, prepared to fire. A soft thump in the grass distracted everyone present. A detonator had landed squarely in the middle of the advancing soldiers. She braced herself right as the device exploded, sending dust and rock flying into the air.

When the haze and debris had cleared, half the Stormtroopers lay on the ground. The other half cowered in fear at a new arrival among them, the one Fennec figured was responsible for the explosion. If she hadn’t known who the helmeted man was on context alone, the way he moved would have told her everything she needed to know. He fought in his own characteristic way, but it was  _ different _ somehow. Colder, more mercenary. The soldiers fled from him in a way they hadn’t before. 

Boba had reclaimed his armour at last. 

The troopers ran back to their transports and took off quickly. Boba strode past where Fennec and the Mandalorian stood, firing a rocket at the retreating ships. His aim was true, striking one ship which took the other down with it.

Fennec knew deep down that  _ arousal _ was probably the wrong thing to be feeling at that moment, but she couldn’t help herself. She really,  _ really _ liked how the armour looked on him. 

“Nice shot!” the Mandalorian exclaimed, sounding genuinely impressed. 

“I was aiming for the other one,” Boba said, tilting his head towards her slightly. 

She didn’t think it mattered, the result was the same. She was about to tell him so when another abrupt explosion changed everything instantly.

***

Boba and Fennec stood on the ridge watching the Mandalorian picking through what remained of his old, but no doubt beloved ship. He couldn’t believe how things had gone wrong so quickly. Victory had seemed all but assured. Instead they’d all received a rude awakening. 

The Empire was back. The war had ended years ago, Boba knew that much. But there was no doubting the evidence of his eyes. The Stormtroopers hadn’t been a splinter faction of Imperial zealots who didn’t know - or perhaps wouldn’t accept - that they’d lost. While that might still be true of whoever commanded them, it was far more serious than Boba had assumed. 

Then there was the Mandalorian. He’d lost his home and his child in an instant. Boba recognized the way he carried himself. He was a man who’d lost everything, including his purpose. It was a feeling Boba knew all too well. 

“Fennec,” he began.

“I know,” she said simply.

“This wasn’t what you signed up for.”

“Yes it was. A deal is a deal right?”

“We don’t know how this is going to go.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, squeezing his hand through his glove. “Don’t worry, boss, I don’t scare easy. You know that.”

They both smiled half-heartedly, then went back to watching the poor Mandalorian dig through the ash. 

On his return, the Mandalorian seemed prepared to part ways with them. Boba expected that same stubbornness from before, but even he couldn’t imagine how their new colleague planned on getting himself off this rock without a ship. They assured him that they would help him until his son was returned safely. It had been their deal after all. Fortunately, it took very little persuading to get him to join them aboard the Slave I. 

Once they were onboard, Fennec began the pre-flight sequence. Boba removed his helmet and joined her at the controls. The Mandalorian wavered behind them, unsure where to go or what to do. 

“You can remove your helmet, son,” Boba said, surprised at how quickly he began to feel paternalistic towards the other Mandalorian. “We’re safe in here.”

“I can’t,” the Mandalorian said quickly. “Not in front of others. It goes against my Creed.”

Boba didn’t press the issue. He knew some Mandalorians clung to the old ways, and it seemed this one was one of those. 

“Your name then?” he asked, turning back to look at him.

The Mandalorian said nothing, but Boba had the distinct impression he was looking at his feet. 

“You have ours,” Fennec pointed out. 

“Din,” he said at last. “Din Djarin.”

“Where to, Din?” Fennec asked. “Where do we start?”

“Nevarro,” he said at once. “It’s out-”

“We know where it is,” Boba interjected, nodding at Fennec.

Once they hit hyperspace, Boba and Fennec excused themselves to the lower level. Din looked unsteady on his feet, and if he couldn’t remove his helmet with them there, they could at least grant him some privacy. 

Instead, they began to retrofit the prisoner cells into a bunk to accommodate their unexpected passenger. 

“Shand,” Boba said as they worked, their earlier conversation with the Mandalorian replaying in his mind, “what did you mean earlier by ‘in my service’? That arrangement hasn’t been true in some time.”

She laughed. 

“It was that or ‘Boba Fett saved my life so I started working for him but the arrangement changed along the way and last night he fucked me so senseless that I couldn’t remember my own first name’.”

“Those were your only two options?”

“Yeah, and he already seemed so surprised I just went with the easier one.”

They finished working and sat back on the floor, both leaning against the bulkhead. Fennec rapped on Boba’s chestplate lightly.

“I like this,” she said.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Boba said, peering down at the armour. “Needs a bit of work though.”

“No, I… _ really _ like it.” she emphasized.

“Oh,” Boba said, catching on. “Is that right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You want me to kiss you when I’m dressed like this, Shand?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled her against him so that she was straddling him. He faced the window, the bluish lights of hyperspace making her look like nothing more than a shadow.

He captured her mouth with his, but only briefly. He pulled away and growled in her ear. 

“You want me to touch you like this? To fuck you?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” she breathed. 

He caressed along her thighs, then braced her against him with one arm, while the other hand dipped into her pants. He ran a finger along her dampening slit, and teased her until she was wet enough for him to slip two fingers inside. 

He kissed her neck and curled his fingers within her as she rode his hand, gasping. 

“ _ Boba,” _ she whispered.

“If I’d known what this armour did for you,  _ cyar’ika, _ I would have killed Cobb Vanth on the spot and taken it from him,” Boba said, driving his fingers into her.

She moaned, digging into his back between the openings in his armour. Suddenly her hips stopped grinding against his hand. 

“Boba,” she said again, a little louder.

“Don’t make me do all the work, Shand.”

“Boba!” she said, smacking his arm and hiding her face in his shoulder.”

“Quiet, we aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know,” she said miserably.

Boba’s hand stilled. He turned his head slightly, just enough to see that Din Djarin stood by the ladder, his back to them and his head and shoulders curled inward, as though he wanted to fold in on himself and disappear. 

“Oh,” was all Boba could say.

“We’re coming up on Nevarro now,” Din said, not daring to move.

“We’ll be right there,” Fennec choked out. 

Din hurried back up the ladder and out of sight.

Fennec climbed off of Boba’s lap and adjusted her clothing. 

“Who’s going to talk to him?” Boba asked, already afraid of the answer.

“Don’t look at me!” Fennec said. “You’re the one who decided to start calling him ‘son’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL you didn't think I was going to finish this story without a bit more awkwardness did you?


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What sort of tradition?”
> 
> “A marriage tradition.”
> 
> She looked at Boba, who looked as though a circuit in his brain was misfiring. 
> 
> “Marriage,” he repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt this overlap with the plot of the Mandalorian for some unadulterated fluff and smut

Fennec decided it was a good idea sending Boba to talk to Din. The two of them had built something of a mutual Mandalorian rapport back on Tython. Not to mention Boba hadn’t been the one to lock eyes with Din while stuck in a highly compromising situation. She’d eventually joined them, and muttered a quiet “sorry you had to see that”, which Din waved away quickly. 

The awkwardness that filled the air followed them all the way down to the surface of Nevarro.

“What do we need here?” Fennec asked, trying to cut the tension. 

“Gonna talk to Karga,” Din said. “I need someone busted out of a New Republic prison, someone who can help us track Gideon.”

“Find out what you can,” Boba said. “We’ll be here.”

Din nodded and swept out of the Slave I, and they watched him disappear on foot towards the settlement. As soon as he was safely away from the ship, Fennec burst into semi-hysterical laughter.

“That was bad,” she said, catching her breath. “He’s going to run away and never come back.”

“He actually feels worse than we do,” Boba said. “He’s been on his own so long…not used to announcing his presence.”

They returned to the lower level, and Boba removed his armour. He set it on the table bolted to the wall and hunted through the cabinet for the necessary equipment needed to clean it up. 

Fennec dug through her bag, producing the materials for a project of her own. She made herself comfortable in one of the seats and got to work.

They sat in silence, each dedicated to their own tasks, the chemical scent from Boba’s armour filling the air. After a couple of hours, Din still hadn’t returned and Fennec was starting to feel light headed. 

She excused herself and ventured outside, sitting down on the ramp and enjoying the mid-afternoon sunshine. A half-hour later, a pair of boots thudded behind her, alerting her to Boba’s presence. 

“Done?” she asked.

“Now it just needs to dry,” he said sitting next to her. 

This was the sort of life she used to envision for herself, the kind of life she wanted after the war. Not chasing a set of old Mandalorian armour halfway across the galaxy, perhaps, but travelling it with the man she loved. In the darkest, most hidden part of her imagination, she used to think that after a few years of travelling just the two of them, of seeing all there was to see, they might find steady work, settle down together somewhere.

He took her hands and tried to pry them open. “And what have you been working on all this time?”

She kept her fist firmly shut, knowing the moment she revealed what she had, it would set an entire chain of events into motion. Or else just make the day more awkward than it had been already.

Now was the time to take that step.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she revealed a well-crafted cuff bracelet, made of the same black leather as her cybernetic covering. It had been stitched through with two red strings, the same she used in her hair.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s for you. It’s…uh…a tradition from my homeworld.”

“What sort of tradition?”

“A marriage tradition.”

She looked at Boba, who looked as though a circuit in his brain was misfiring. 

“Marriage,” he repeated.

“I know it doesn’t make much of a difference for us, not really. You’re already the closest thing to family I have. And it’s not as though I’m planning on falling in love with anyone else. I just thought-”

He cut her off with a kiss before she could talk herself out of her own proposal. 

“It would be an honour to marry you, _cyar’ika._ You just say when,” he murmured against her lips.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” Fennec said, breaking away and throwing her arms around him. “It can be after this trip.”

“Whenever you want,” Boba said, a wide smile on his face. He kissed her hair. “Now, tell me about this cuff.”

“Traditionally, the couple exchange pieces of jewellery after they marry,” she explained. “But unlike in the Core Worlds, each piece has to hold great significance to the giver. Symbolically offering a part of themselves to their partner.”

“So this-”

“This part,” she said quietly, running a finger along the leather, “symbolizes the incident that brought us together in the first place.” 

“And the string?”

“Brought us back together.”

She handed him the cuff and he slid it over his right wrist.

“I don’t have anything for you, Shand, I didn’t know…” he said, the corners of his mouth turning down.

“Don’t rush. That’s why this tradition is hardly ever observed before the wedding. We don’t give a part of ourselves lightly.”

“And yet you took the time to make this before asking me.”

“I took a chance and hoped you would say yes.”

“As if I would ever say no to you.”

***

Fennec rested her head against Boba’s shoulder and stared out at the horizon watching for Din’s return. He’d been gone just long enough that they wondered if they ought to go looking for him. They agreed that if he hadn’t returned by nightfall they would go searching, but in the meantime would wait here as planned.

Boba absent-mindedly twisted the cuff Fennec had made him around his wrist. She’d explained the significance of each of the individual parts, not realizing that to him it symbolized so much more. It showed her willingness to trust him, to trust her own feelings and to trust in the foundation of whatever they’d built together. She’d said she was happy to marry any time, but he didn’t think he could wait that long.

“Shand?” he said.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about us getting married now? Today? Mandalorian ceremonies are short.”

“How long do those take? A day at most?”

“Minutes, Shand. All we need is a witness.”

“Minutes?”

Boba was suddenly worried that he’d offended her somehow. Perhaps her homeworld had far more elaborate traditions. He quickly asked if this was the case.

“No, no. Well, yes, they do take longer than a few minutes but that doesn’t matter. What do we do?”

“Exchange vows before a witness.”

“That’s it?” she asked, surprised. When Boba nodded, she then asked what words needed to be said.

“I’ll teach you.”

He took both her hands in his. Though there were no witnesses, this would be the first time he spoke his marriage vows to the woman he loved, and the last thing he wanted was to recite them like a teacher giving a language lesson. 

_“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”_

“What does it mean?”

“We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.”

At the last point, Fennec frowned.

“What’s the matter, Shand?”

“Children…” she trailed off and shook her head, a shadow of doubt crossing her face. He kissed the little crease of worry between her brows.

“Don’t let that part bother you, Fennec, it’s not a requirement. A family is what we make it, and whatever that looks like will be a choice we make together. My father was a foundling, and a proud Mandalorian. You saw what Din is like with that child. Both were foundlings themselves, from what he told me. It’s common, but as I said, not mandatory.”

She nodded, then smirked.

“You’ve all but adopted Din anyway, so I see what you mean.”

“He reminds me of myself, after my father-”

Boba trailed off, terrible memories threatening to creep in and ruin the joy of the moment. He shook his head as if to clear the thoughts, then locked eyes with Fennec.

“The vows.”

Her earlier concern returned to her face when she then attempted to repeat the marriage vows in mando’a and tripped over every other word.

“Could I say them in Basic, do you think?”

Boba laughed, returning his gaze to the horizon. A lone man in a cape was walking towards them, sunlight glinting off his helmet.

Boba and Fennec stood as Din approached the ramp.

“What news?” Boba asked.

“Karga said he can have the prisoner here tomorrow, so it looks like we’re here overnight.”

He glanced up and scanned the sky, as though hoping to see the Imperial Cruiser they sought flying overhead. Boba understood the pain he was going through and knew no platitudes would help, however tempted he was.

“He’ll be fine,” Fennec said. “They wanted him alive, or they wouldn’t have bothered going to all that effort to take him.”

“But for how long? What if-”

“Don’t do that,” Boba said. “Your boy needs you to be strong, and to be careful. If you go charging into anything, you put him at risk.”

“It’s going to be a long night,” Fennec said. “But we’ll be one step closer to him tomorrow.”

Din nodded and clutched his head in frustration. He sighed.

“For tonight,” Din began, “I can just go back-”

“No,” Boba insisted. “Stay here, it’s more private. We can take a room in town.”

“I can’t.”

“We insist,” Fennec said quickly, and Boba knew she still felt awkward about earlier.

“Thank you,” he said finally, craning his neck to look towards the interior of the ship. The Mandalorian rolled his shoulders in discomfort. Boba knew from experience that he was longing to remove the armour, which had to be pinching him after wearing it so consistently for so long. He brushed past the two of them on his way inside.

“We’ll see you first thing in the morning,” Fennec said firmly. Din nodded and closed the ramp behind them. Boba half expected him to take off at once, but fortunately Din was not a rash man, for all that he was impatient. 

Arriving in town, they sought out Greef Karga. On the walk over, they agreed to take advantage of the presence of a friendly magistrate and to marry right away. Though Din could have witnessed the ceremony himself, it didn’t seem appropriate to ask when he was so grieved. 

The Magistrate was delighted to see them again, even more so now that he knew they were travelling with Din. They explained what they wanted of him and he agreed immediately.

“Right now?” Karga asked them, looking delighted.

Boba took Fennec’s hands in his once more.

“ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde._ ”

“We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.”

“That’s it?” Karga asked, looking between them.

“That’s it,” they replied in unison.

“Congratulations!” Karga boomed, embracing them both. He directed them to the “nicer inn” in town with a not-so-sly wink, and though they hadn’t reacted in front of him, they headed straight in the direction he’d indicated. 

No sooner had the door of their room closed behind them that Fennec leapt into Boba’s arms.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Neither can I, _cyar’ika_.”

Boba Fett held his wife closer and kissed her.

***

In all her life, Fennec had never experienced so strange and exhilarating an afternoon, and the whole thing left her giddy. From a proposal to her honeymoon in less than an hour. Life certainly worked in strange ways.

Her husband pulled her into a long, slow kiss, as tender as he’d been in the early days of their relationship.

The tender moment was interrupted when Boba dropped her unceremoniously on the bed. 

“Ow,” was all Fennec could manage before calling Boba a variety of colourful names.

“This calls for a bottle of something nice, don’t you think?” Boba said, completely ignoring her outburst, the grin on his face the only indication that he’d heard her at all.

“Oh, and Shand?” he said, from the doorway. “You’d better be ready for me when I get back.”

“Is this a request from my husband or an order from my boss?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s whichever one gets you to comply,” he replied, looking over her body with heat in his eyes.

By the time he returned, a bottle of liquor and two glasses in his hand, Fennec was waiting for him, as he’d requested. She lay on her stomach, fully naked, and glanced up when he walked in, but otherwise made no move to rise. She’d opened her hair, which now fanned out in waves down her back.

“I like you like this,” Boba observed.

“Do you?” Fennec said, affecting an air of indifference. She pulled her hair to the side and arched her back in a way that made her ass stick up just a little higher in the air.

“Tease.”

“I think you like it when I tease you.”

Boba gripped the bottle more aggressively than necessary. Fennec slowly, very slowly, slid off the bed and padded across to where Boba stood. She plucked the bottle and glasses out of his hands without a word. She took them to the table that sat against the opposite wall and poured out small measures of the high-quality liquor he’d brought. She raised one glass to her lips and sipped carefully. It was spicy and sweet, and left a pleasant tingle on her tongue which spread through the rest of her body like wildfire.

“What is this?” she asked, before gasping as Boba’s hands made sudden, unexpected contact with her bare skin. 

He nipped at her shoulders and neck tenderly, and she tilted her head back against him, granting him easier access. His questing fingers wandered her body, leaving scorch marks in their wake. She let him continue exploring her, his hands tracing terrain with which he was intimately familiar. No one had ever mapped her every facet quite like he had, with such thoroughness and reverence. He palmed her hip, his fingers achingly close to where her thigh and hip met. She exhaled, and her breath carried with it an unspoken plea.

“I know, Shand. I know.”

He stopped touching her and instead reached around her to take his glass.

“Now who’s being a tease?”

She faced him, her own glass still in her hand. 

“Keep that attitude up, and you just might be teasing yourself tonight,” he smirked.

“I might as well, at this rate.” 

His free arm snaked around her back, and he dragged her over to the bed. He sat down on the edge and pulled her between his thighs. 

“So do it,” Boba said, his lips brushing against her ear.

They finished the last of their drinks and discarded the glasses. Fennec squirmed against him, enjoying the way his clothing scratched at her skin, and the way he groaned as her tailbone brushed against his hardening cock. He lazily traced a finger up and down her spine, which only made her grow wetter and shiver with arousal.

“When I said to get yourself ready for me, Shand,” he whispered against her lips. “I meant in every way.”

She tried to kiss him, the effort made clumsy by the sighs his touch was provoking. She could taste the spicy sweetness of the liquor on his tongue. The heat it spread throughout her body blazed into an inferno as she licked into his mouth and gripped the back of his head, trying not to dig her nails into the sensitive skin of his neck.

He gently guided her other, trembling hand down towards her sex. Taking the hint, she slipped a finger between her folds and traced small circles where she longed most to be touched. 

She hummed at the stimulation, already relieving some of the pressure that had been building between her legs. Boba continued to stroke her spine, the tingle of the barely-there touches making her breath catch in her chest. 

With a quiet sigh of pleasure, she gently pressed two fingers into her core, not chasing the delicious fullness she felt with Boba, just seeking gentle release. It wasn’t quite as satisfying, but it was more than made up for with the way Boba looked at her, a feral hunger in his eyes. She leaned back slightly, hips moving in tandem with her hand as she fucked herself in her husband’s lap.

“That’s enough, I think,” Boba growled. He withdrew her hand and stood them both up. He took her slick fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. “On your stomach, Shand.”

She heard him undressing behind her. She’d resumed the position he’d found her in earlier, only now she squirmed in discomfort at her sudden emptiness. The chill in the air immediately dissipated when he guided her hips up into the air and spread her thighs a little wider. She pushed herself up onto all fours, their current position causing discomfort around her cybernetics.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing now, I’m fine.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Can you just-”

She’d been touched and teased to the point of delirium, and didn’t think she could take it anymore. He pushed into her so suddenly they both groaned. Fennec dug her fingers into the sheets on the mattress and arched her back, pressing her hips back towards him.

He snapped his hips against her, each thrust drawing out a primal moan from both of them. It wasn’t enough. She squirmed and arched, looking for the kind of angle that would send her into mindless pleasure. He finally wrapped his body over hers, his chest pressing into her back, their fingers locked together on the mattress. When he pressed inside her again, he hit a spot that made her cry out shamelessly. 

The second her walls clenched around him once, Boba yanked her upright so they were both kneeling on the bed. He rocked up into her so quickly and with such force that Fennec heard the bed scrape against the floor. He held her steady with one strong forearm, the other hand engaged between her legs. 

“Fennec,” he growled, nipping at where her neck met her shoulder. “Play with your tits.”

She palmed and cupped her breasts, circling her thumbs over and around her nipples in time with the circles he traced further down her body.

“Good girl,” he said, fucking into her harder. “What a good wife I have.”

A keening sigh tore from her lips, and she felt a familiar tightness in her belly, every muscle on edge. “I can’t believe I have a husband that makes me feel this good.”

“As your husband, I vow to spend my life making you feel this way as often as possible.”

He thrust a final time, and they found their bliss together, collapsing face forward on the bed once the tremors of pleasure had given way to bonelessness.

Boba lay next to her, brushing her long sweaty hair away from her face.

“Is it me or did that feel different?” Fennec asked, breathlessly.

“Good different?”

“The best kind of different.”

“I’m glad.”

Boba turned onto his back. Fennec slid on top of him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Oh, and Boba? That vow you made just now?”

“What about it, Shand?”

“I’m going to be taking you up on it. A lot.”

He kissed her shoulder, his lips pulled into a smile. 

“I sincerely hope you do.”

***

Returning to the Slave I the next morning, hand in hand, they were greeted on the ramp not just by Din, but by a second man wearing the garb of a New Republic labour camp. Boba wasn’t certain how they met, but he was sure it was quite the story. 

“This them?” the new man asked.

“Miggs Mayfeld,” Din explained. “He’s going to help us track down Moff Gideon’s cruiser.”

“Wait, what?” Mayfeld said. 

It seemed they’d been waiting for Boba and Fennec to return before having this conversation. They’d meant to come back sooner, but Boba had been held up on an urgent errand. 

“You wanna go back to prison?” Din asked.

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Gentlemen, can we have this conversation inside?” Fennec said, leading the way in. While Fennec and Boba prepared to take off, Din got Mayfeld up to speed. The type of terminal Mayfeld needed access to was hard to come by. The closest was on Morak, a world with a covert Imperial mining facility. They input the coordinates and jumped to hyperspace. 

Mayfeld was not happy about the mission ahead, despite agreeing to help them. He grumbled so much that Boba threatened to throw him in one of the cells down below, after which he quieted down considerably.

“We should be arriving soon,” Fennec said, consulting the navigational display. Boba stood, and the rest followed suit.

“I suggest you prepare yourselves.”

He climbed down to change, with Fennec right behind him. He meticulously put on every piece of armour, pleased with the refurbishment he’d managed. The paint had all been reapplied, darker than it was when his father wore it, but the same general colours. He honoured his father, but the armour was his now, and it was time he made it his own. It’s what Jango would have expected. 

At last, all that remained was the helmet, which he left off for the time being. He withdrew a small item from his pocket and beckoned Fennec over.

“I believe tradition says this is yours,” he said, opening his hand. In his palm lay a green bangle with smooth edges. 

“What is it?” Fennec asked, picking it up and sliding it on.

“Beskar,” he said simply. “From my armour.”

“You took a piece off your armour?” she asked in surprise.

“I made a slight modification, yes. Were it not for my armour, my quest to find it, I wouldn’t have ever found you. Not to mention, it’s the reason you stayed with me after you came back.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Just the excuse.”

He took the bracelet from her and slid it onto her wrist.

“You are a formidable woman Shand, and a formidable warrior. I pity anyone who faces you in battle. But know that in giving you a piece of the armour that protects me, it is my promise to always protect you in turn.”

Fennec glanced down at the beskar around her wrist, looking genuinely touched. 

“If you recall,” she said, her voice laden with emotion, “ _I’m_ the one who dropped _you_ to the ground back in that alley on Tatooine.” 

“I'd expect nothing less from you. As I said, I pity those who must face you in battle.”

He drew her in for a moment that was as passionate as it was short-lived.

Din called down to them to let them know they were dropping out of hyperspace. Fennec secured the bangle under her sleeve. He let her climb up the ladder first, taking a moment to don his helmet and check his armour. 

He caught sight of himself reflected in the glass against the dark of space. He made for an imposing figure in his armour, more so now that it wasn’t damaged from years of acid, sand and sun. 

He’d gotten what he came for, and only one bargain stood between him and the total freedom to do as he wished, with Fennec at his side. A question began to form in his mind, nagging at him in a most inconvenient way considering the mission ahead.

_After this mission...what comes next?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what, I make no excuses for being a corny, sentimental bitch. None whatsoever.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clank of boots in the airlock sent him spinning in his seat. Din strode into the cockpit. Their modulated breaths were the only sound in the space. Fennec wasn’t coming. 
> 
> “What happened?” Boba snapped at once. The ship's comms crackled to life.
> 
> “Nothing happened, Boba,” Fennec’s voice said. “Don’t worry.”
> 
> “Cyar’ika, where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The home stretch. Only one more chapter after this. It's already written, so I'll update it soon, maybe first thing in the new week.
> 
> I can't believe this is almost done. I'm not ready for it to be over.
> 
> **edited to add: you may notice Cara Dune isn't here. Long story short, the actress who plays her blocked me on Twitter (personally, not a blockchain) so I decided I didn't want her in my story :)

Boba set the Slave I down in a thick cluster of trees, obscuring them from even the most prying eyes. The ramp opened onto a planet that was humid and sticky. It had barely been 10 seconds and Fennec could feel her covering sticking to the skin around her cybernetics. Her jacket chafed against her arms, but she knew better than to expose more skin than necessary to the elements of an unknown world.

They peered down at the Imperial facility, watching trucks hauling rhydonium inside. They all knew how volatile the substance was, and knew they would have to play it carefully when they hijacked one of the trucks to sneak in. Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

So naturally things went wrong immediately.

It went without saying that Mayfeld would need to enter the facility, but he couldn’t go in alone. Though any one of them was more than capable of assisting him, problems began to arise when he explained, in his characteristically impatient way, what the Imperial security protocols would be in such a facility. They employed a sophisticated method of genetic scanning that was definitely going to cause them problems.

“If you get scanned and your signature shows up on any New Republic register you’re gonna be detected and it’s guns out,” he said. 

Fennec wasn’t sure why he spoke as though he hoped to dissuade them from the endeavour altogether. 

“Fennec?” Din asked, when the time came to determine which of them would go.

“I’m wanted by ISB,” she said truthfully. “I’ll trip the alarm.”

“Fett?” Din said, turning to the older Mandalorian.

“Let’s just say they might recognize my face,” Boba scoffed.

Din didn’t get it, but Fennec did. She kept her amusement in. She could laugh about it later. Din was hesitant to go with Mayfeld, she noticed, until he spied something below, which seemed to make up his mind for him.

A short while later, with Din and Mayfeld gone, and Din’s armour now safely stowed on board the Slave I which hovered above the facility in the clouds, Fennec was left entirely alone.

She waited on a hillside, her rifle pointed towards the Imperial mining facility where Din and Mayfeld had disappeared. She reflected that while she was bored out of her mind, she preferred it to the alternative. When things started exploding it was usually a sign something was going wrong. 

She heard the distant shout of voices. Saw two figured sprinting across the rooftop of the facility. She scanned the skies in time to see the Slave I swoop down and hover long enough to collect the two sprinting figures. 

Then something exploded.

She was impressed. Mayfeld stood on the ramp, a cycler rifle over his shoulder. He’d struck one of the trucks on the roof of the facility, sending the whole thing up in flames. It might appear harsh at face value, but Fennec could respect it. Those on the fringe had to do what they could to live with themselves.

Boba and Din agreed with her assessment, particularly once Din provided them with the details of exactly what had happened inside the facility. They collectively came to the agreement that Miggs Mayfeld had “died” while serving the mission, and let the bewildered former Imperial walk free.

“Got what you needed?” Fennec asked, brushing dirt and dust off her clothing.

“We did,” Din replied. He sounded strange. It went beyond the different voice modulation of the Imperial helmet he wore. He was conflicted about something. Fennec didn’t press, she knew better than to try. He barely spoke under normal circumstances, never mind prying personal questions. 

“To Moff Gideon?” Boba asked, once Din returned wearing his regular armour again.

“We’ll need backup,” Din said, shaking his head. “And information.”

“Which one first?” 

“Information.”

As it turned out, Din had done more than find coordinates for Moff Gideon’s cruiser while he was in the facility. He’d also managed to track down a travel log for someone on Gideon’s payroll, a man by the name of “Dr. Pershing”. He passed the information on to Boba.

Fennec dropped to the lower level of the Slave I intending to change out of her sweat-soaked clothes. But no sooner had she peeled off her jacket than someone else dropped in behind her.

“Fennec,” Din said, going out of his way to announce his presence.

“Din…”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“I think the less we talk about what you saw down here the better-”

“No not that. Well, yes that. But no. I, ah….”

He sighed, steeling himself.

“I meant back on Tatooine. With that bounty hunter.”

Oh. They’d struck a temporary battlefield truce on Tython, but apparently he still felt the need to apologize properly.

“It’s fine, Din,” Fennec said. “We’re good.”

“But it wasn’t the honourable thing, leaving you like that.”

“No, probably not.”

“He just left you…”

He gestured vaguely at her cybernetics. Her hand flew up reflexively and lay against the leather covering. Her beskar bangle slid down her arm and came to rest right on her wrist. 

Though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they’d come to rest on her bracelet. 

“Is that-?”

“Beskar,” she said, putting a hint of warning in her voice. She’d heard his conversation with Boba back on Tython. Mandalorians were  _ weird _ about their beskar. 

“But you-”

“It was a gift,” she interjected. “From Boba.”

“Gift?”

“Wedding gift. A tradition from back home.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, this explanation appeared to be enough for him.

“How long have you two been…?”

“Together? Since you and Calican left me for dead,” she teased, enjoying the way Din flinched. “But married? Two days.”

“Two- _ two days? _ ”

“Since Nevarro.”

“That’s why you went into town,” he said suddenly. Fennec could practically hear the pieces clicking for him.

“Yeah, we figured it wasn’t fair to you for us to have our wedding night here, so-”

“I appreciate it,” Din said quickly. She knew he was blushing under his helmet, and swallowed the laugh bubbling up in her chest.

The silence between them was far more comfortable than it had ever been. Fennec decided to have one last little bit of fun with him while she could. She pulled on the bottom of her shirt.

“Well, I was just going to change, so unless you’d like to see…”

He was up the ladder and out of sight before the hem had cleared her navel.

***

The cockpit was eerily silent. The Slave I hovered in place, anchored to an Imperial shuttle. Boba sat alone at the helm. Fennec and Din had boarded the other vessel, on the hunt for an Imperial scientist that Din felt could help them.

The coordinates for the next destination were already input. He was just waiting for them to return, scientist in tow. He knew their next step was as necessary as this one. More so than this little trip. But still, he dreaded it. It was one thing being around Din. From what Boba understood, the man had a fairly rigid creed that he followed, but was also quick to accept Boba as a fellow Mandalorian. 

But now Din sought others. What they were like, Boba couldn’t say. And he hated being unprepared. 

A clank of boots in the airlock sent him spinning in his seat. Din strode into the cockpit. Their modulated breaths were the only sound in the space. Fennec wasn’t coming. 

“What happened?” Boba snapped at once. The ship's comms crackled to life.

“Nothing happened, Boba,” Fennec’s voice said. “Don’t worry.”

“ _ Cyar’ika _ , where are you?”

“I’m on the Imperial shuttle. The officers are dead, it’s just me and the scientist.”

“Dr. Pershing,” a faint male voice chimed in.

“Right,” Fennec continued. “You two go ahead to the coordinates, we’ll rendezvous with you there. Imperial shuttle like this might get waylaid, and we can’t afford to waste time.”

While they’d been speaking, Din had disengaged the connection between the two ships. The Imperial shuttle pulled away from the Slave I and jumped into hyperspace.

“I want to criticize every choice made here,” Boba said. “But I trust her judgement…and yours.”

Din nodded his thanks as the ship followed the Imperial Shuttle into hyperspace. They sat in silence watching the swirl of stars pass them by. Boba knew Din was no conversationalist, but underestimated just how quiet the other man was without Fennec there to break the silence. 

To the average observer, Din would appear to be as silent as stoic as ever. But Boba had spent his life observing people, looking for the little hints into their mind that many often laid bare without realizing. Din might have been quiet, but his mind certainly wasn’t if subtle shifts in his movement and breathing were any indication. 

“He’ll be fine,” Boba said, looking at Din. “Your kid. You’ll get him back.”

“He’s not  _ my _ kid. Not really. Only until I return him to his kind.”

“And yet you’ve dedicated yourself to his safety and well-being.”

“I’ve been quested to do so.”

“If only everyone took such care with the missions they were given. He’s more than a task to you, whether or not you care to admit it.”

“He…he can’t stay with me,” Din said quietly. “He has special abilities.” 

“The Force,” Boba supplied. “He’s Jedi.”

Din’s head snapped up.

“I have some experience with Jedi,” Boba explained, not willing to delve any further.

“He needs…training, support. Things I can’t give him.”

“Tell yourself what you like. Whatever makes this easier. But putting your own happiness on the line for his well being? It’s what any good father would do.”

The rest of the trip was carried out in silence, but a far more reflective one. When they dropped out of hyperspace over a nondescript moon, Boba decided it was finally time to prepare.

“Who exactly is it we’re looking for?”

“A small cohort of Mandalorians. I've worked with them before.” Din replied vaguely. Boba didn’t ask anything further. He’d already said he trusted Din’s judgement. He honoured that trust now, and brought the Slave I into the moon’s atmosphere without another word. 

They settled between the Imperial shuttle they’d stolen and one that was Mandalorian in design. Stepping out into the brisk morning, Boba risked a peek at the Imperial ship. His eyes fixed on the window of the cockpit long enough to spot Fennec chatting with a bespectacled man, no doubt trying to distract him while she bandaged his singed and bleeding ear. She could sense she was being watched and glanced up from her work. Her lips twitched into a smile and she waved.

They headed directly to the cantina, the first place any self-respecting bounty hunter began a hunt. Either you found the information you sought, or you could drown your sorrows in the strongest liquor they offered. 

They scanned the dusty air of the local watering hole. Every patron regarded them with suspicion, two imposing figures in intimidating, inscrutable armour. One man, a local by the looks of him, lacked the kind of discretion usually found in places like these. His eyes quickly darted to the back wall, then down to the table in front of him, as if he hoped to conceal his careless mistake. But it was too late, the damage was done. Din strode in the direction of the man’s gaze, Boba following not half a step behind. 

Two women were seated at a low table, their backs to the rest of the bar. They didn’t take the usual precautions a place like this called for. They didn’t need to. They were Mandalorian warriors after all, their telltale helmets resting on the table in front of them.

The younger of the two was a stranger to Boba, but he recognized the face of the older woman. Bo-Katan Kryze, the erstwhile leader of Mandalore. Din quickly caught her up on his struggle, only to be shot down immediately. Little wonder she’d lost control of an entire planet, with so little backbone. Though he had little use for her, he begrudgingly admired the little Mandalorian who sat with her. A little more spirit and fire would be what won the day, not bitterness and resignation. 

Bo-Katan changed her tune when Din offered her a chance to reclaim Mandalore. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Mandalore?” Boba said, no longer able to contain himself. “The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

“You are a disgrace to your armour,” Bo-Katan spat.

An ember of anger took root in his stomach and twisted around his heart. He allowed it to fill every fibre of his being. He did not need to prove himself to an upstart who lashed out because of her own failures. 

“This armour belonged to my father,” he said, as calmly as he could manage.

“Don’t you mean your donor?”

The anger roared to life inside him, though he still kept his voice even.

“Careful, princess.”

“You are a clone,” she continued undeterred. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

“Mine might be the last one you hear.”

As was often the way with such things an agreement was eventually reached. Negotiations were short, aggressive, yet efficient. They boarded the Slave I together and began formulating a plan. While Din and Bo-Katan spoke in hushed voices, Boba caught Fennec up on how things had unfolded.

“So  _ she _ ,” Fennec said pointing at the younger Mandalorian who went by Koska, “threw  _ you _ into a table?”

“She got lucky.”

“You sound impressed.”

He chuckled.

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

“What about the other one?”

“She’s proud. Stubborn. Has a mean streak.”

“Who does that sound like?” Fennec laughed. 

“You’re not mean!”

“Not to you. Though maybe I should be. I heard you’re going around calling her ‘princess’?”

“Just you wait to hear what I’ll call you later,” he growled quietly. She grinned.

They agreed to split up. Bo-Katan’s ship would remain here in the care of one of her other warriors. She and Koska would accompany Din and Fennec on board the Imperial Cruiser while Boba helps provide the distraction that would get them there. Once he jumped out of the way, he would drop Dr. Pershing at a nearby port to help him return to his laboratory.

Boba grabbed Fennec’s hand as the away team headed for the Imperial shuttle.

“Be careful out there. I can’t help but worry every time you leave.”

“I’m not going alone. I can’t say the same for you.”

“I have the doctor with me.”

“You know what I mean.” She leaned in close and brushed her nose against his. “Come back to me.”

“I love you,  _ cyar’ika _ .” 

He kissed her hard, pulling her tight against him. For the first time since he’d gotten it back, he cursed his armour. It prevented him from feeling the warmth of her body molded against his. She dug her fingers into his waist, underneath the chest plate, then tore herself away and followed Din down the ramp.

“Wow,” a voice behind him said. Koska. “I didn’t know clones could feel love.”

“I won’t dignify that with a response.”

“That was a response,” she pointed out.

“Not the one you deserve.”

She cackled and left the ship. 

“You’re a clone?” a quiet voice said. Boba jumped. He’d completely forgotten that Dr. Pershing was still here. For the first time, he studied the man closely. He stood as if he was trying to make himself smaller. The moment he’d felt Boba’s gaze turn on him, he averted his eyes. It was then that Boba noticed the patch on his lab coat.

“Kamino?” Boba asked, surprised.

“Yes,” he said, standing a little straighter. “I’m a chief Clone Engineer.”

“Cloning?” 

Dr. Pershing nodded. Boba sighed and slid his helmet off. It took Dr. Pershing a minute to see past the scars, the lack of hair, and the toll of many hard years that distinguished Boba’s face from his father’s. The doctor squinted at the bounty hunter through tinted spectacles, then suddenly widened his eyes, gasping comically. 

“Clone trooper?” the man stammered out. “How…how are you still  _ alive _ ?”

Boba sighed and sat in the pilot’s seat. 

“Have a seat, Doctor. I’ll tell you the whole story on the way.”

***

The Imperial Cruiser was empty, but Fennec’s ears were still ringing. She sat at one of the terminals on the bridge, ostensibly watching for approaching craft. They’d contacted the New Republic and told them they had apprehended a high value Imperial prisoner. They had been told in turn that someone was on the way, and to hang tight. Fennec hoped that whoever it was came quickly. The tension on the bridge could be cut with a knife. 

Things had started off relatively well. She had stormed the bridge, along with Bo-Katan and Koska. The three of them worked well together, and it had taken very little effort, all things considered to take command of the Cruiser. 

Once they were in control, Bo-Katan began to pace like a caged animal. Gideon wasn’t on the bridge as she’d expected. She was adamant about facing him in combat, and armed herself, convinced that at any moment he would enter and she could attack. The weapon he carried, she explained to Fennec, had to be won in combat. The one who emerged victorious would be deemed worthy of leading Mandalore. The door slid open not long after and in the cruelest twist of irony, Gideon entered, hands bound and led by Din, who held a glowing black blade.

The colour dropped from Bo-Katan’s face. This, then, was the weapon she wanted. But there was no time to dwell on any of that, because they were then all faced with the very real fact that they had minutes left to live. A legion of Dark Troopers, the same emotionless, brutally aggressive droids that had stolen the child on Tython, stood behind the door to the bridge, attempting to knock it down. 

Fennec armed her rifle, knowing it would do little good, and waited to greet death. She hoped Boba would manage without her. At the end of all things, her only regret was those six months she spent without him. Had she known, she would have disregarded her own concerns and stayed. She supposed that she also regretted that terrible day at Jabba’s Palace. The last time she’d ever seen Cutter.

_ Maybe he’ll be waiting to greet you in the afterlife, _ she thought wryly. The thought comforted her in a strange way. A comfort she needed as the door gave a disconcerting lurch. 

“Incoming X-Wing!” Koska called. But what could one X-Wing do?

A whole lot, as it turned out, when it was being piloted by a Jedi. 

And now Fennec sat at the terminal, keeping an eye out for New Republic transports wondering how she would explain to Boba what had just happened. A Jedi had been here. The only reason she still drew breath was because of the most improbable rescue anyone had ever heard of. 

But the dust had settled, leaving nothing in the air but tension and sadness. Bo-Katan and Din had yet to resolve the ownership of the blade, but even she had the good sense not to press the issue. Din had succeeded in his mission. He had given the child over to the Jedi for training. And Fennec had rarely seen a man look so broken. 

“Incoming ship,” Koska whispered to Fennec. She was grateful for the help from the younger warrior. Perhaps she too needed a distraction from the other two. 

Fennec checked the screens. It wasn’t a New Republic transport. Her heart leapt in her chest. Boba was here.

“Incoming Firespray,” she called on the comms. “We’ll rendezvous in the hangar.”

“Copy,” replied Boba’s rough voice.

The New Republic prison transport followed so closely behind the Slave I that Fennec could have sworn it was in pursuit.

“I’ll take him,” Fennec said, dragging Gideon to his feet.

“I’ll help.” Din shook himself out of his reverie. He replaced his helmet, which he had removed to say goodbye to his son, concealing his emotions from view once more.

He didn’t speak at all as they walked Gideon down to the hangar. Nor did he speak as they handed the prisoner off to the New Republic officers, who looked relieved to be out of there. Boba stood by his ship glaring at them, weapons drawn. The three watched as the transport exited through the shield and jumped to hyperspace.

“Shall we?” Boba asked. 

Din sighed.

“I’m going to stay.”

“With Bo-Katan? After all that?” Fennec asked.

“Yeah. We can figure the saber stuff out later, I…I need a purpose. Something to  _ do. _ Or else I-”

“I know,” Fennec said, understanding his grief and helplessness all too well. 

“If this becomes too much, son,” Boba said. “If these Mandalorians become weird and intense…”

Din laughed quietly.

“I’ll find you.”

Boba and Fennec boarded their ship, taking one last look back at the man in the hangar.

“What  _ happened _ back there?” Boba asked. “Where’s the kid?”

“It’s a really long story. I think I need a nap first.”

“And I need a heading. Where to now, Shand?”

Since the day she’d gotten off her planet, all she wanted was to see the galaxy. And she’d seen her fair share of it. She hoped she still would, in the years to come, all with Boba at her side of course. But now for the first time in years, she had absolute freedom to choose. And there was only one place she wanted to go. 

“Take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so if we've made it past Luke Skywalker's rescue...
> 
> ...I think you all know which part is coming up next.
> 
> And I promise you I am not keeping it PG-13


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you think?”
> 
> “I can’t think of anyone better suited. But if I can make one suggestion?”
> 
> She pulled one of her hands free and laid it along his cheek, brushing one of the more pronounced scars with her thumb.
> 
> “I say that we put a stop to it. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it.
> 
> Last chapter - also it figures that my last chapter would also be the longest haha
> 
> Little bit of smut, little bit of feels...enjoy!

It had been a week since they returned to Tatooine. A quiet, blissfully lazy week. For the most part anyway.

A lone trip into town had left them shaken. Menco’s agents, it turned out, never stopped looking for Fennec and Boba. They just weren’t particularly good at it. But a tip off from another crew led them back to Tatooine, and it was on a hot afternoon in Mos Eisley that they finally found them.

Neither of them were dragged off to work for Menco of course. The agents sent to fetch them would have to still be breathing for that to happen. They had just begun resigning themselves to a life of running and hiding, or at the very least leaving Tatooine, when their little Weequay friend Reesa brought news that changed everything. 

“I know who it was,” Boba said, stepping back into the small house. “I know who sold us out to Menco.”

“Who?” Fennec asked, glancing up from the table where she was deconstructing her rifle so she could clean each individual part. The blanket she had wrapped herself in slid a little down her chest and the newly uncovered skin captured all of Boba’s attention. How was it that after all this time she still had this effect on him? He was in the middle of offering prayers of gratitude to every deity in existence for leading him to the most beautiful woman in the galaxy when he heard Fennec calling him.

“Boba? Who was it?”

“Hutt cartel.”

“Jabba’s dead,” she said warily.

“He is. But his empire isn’t. Bib Fortuna sits on the throne now.”

Fennec rested her face in her hand, looking disturbed, with good reason. Bib Fortuna was a sycophant and an opportunist. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Bib orchestrated the explosion of Jabba’s barge that day.

“It always comes back to them,” Boba said. “I almost died in their service once. Who knew they would try to finish the job all these years later.”

“Is this you blaming the sarlacc again?” Fennec said, making a weak attempt at a joke. “But you couldn’t have known Fortuna would take over.”

“I should have known better. Should have known Jabba’s death wouldn’t mean his reach and influence died with him. Everyone knew then that if Bib said it, it was as good as Jabba’s word.”

“He was there, you know,” Fennec said quietly. “That day.”

“With Cutter?”

“Mmm. Standing behind him. Or maybe holding him up, I don’t remember.” 

She paused and collected herself. 

“He had…ideas. Of what they could do with me. After Cutter…after I killed him. Made me wonder how many of those dancing girls started out like me.”

He sat beside her at the table, wrapping her hands in his.

“Fennec-”

“Nothing happened. He never voiced his ideas to Jabba. I was thrown out, beaten within an inch of my life, and I got out of there before someone decided to change their mind.”

“They’ve taken enough from me. From both of us. It’s time I put a stop to it.”

“How?”

“What if I took control of the whole thing?”

“You?”

“What do you think?”

“I can’t think of anyone better suited. But if I can make one suggestion?”

She pulled one of her hands free and laid it along his cheek, brushing one of the more pronounced scars with her thumb.

“I say that _we_ put a stop to it. Together.”

***

Fennec was objectively prepared to take Jabba’s palace. She and Boba strategized until she could recite the plan in her sleep. If Boba was to be believed, she _had_ started reciting in her sleep one night. 

Nevertheless, as the suns just crested the sky and began to set, and their speeder came to a stop in the growing shadows in front of the palace, her nerves felt fried. She gazed at the imposing door, the one that she knew led to an impossibly long tunnel beyond. Flashes of the last time she’d been here danced in her head. She’d hardly registered it then. Neither of them had been in any condition to do much other than be dragged in, bound, beaten and bloody. 

Their presence did not go unnoticed. The door slid open and two Gammorean guards stepped out, their crude weapons pointed directly at Boba and Fennec. They fired simultaneous shots, dropping the guards where they stood. 

She led Boba down the silent passageway. She suggested she take the advance position, counting on the element of surprise to work to their benefit. If they saw Boba right away, it might occur to them to call the guards. But if any of them remembered her, it would be as a frightened, sobbing girl. She could then make sure that their hesitation was the last thing they ever felt. 

The Palace as a whole was quiet. Far quieter than it had been during Jabba’s reign. Many must have fled to other cartels, other gangs. Only the most dedicated would remain with Bib Fortuna. 

She crept down the curved stone staircase, her soft footfalls echoing into the throne room The low chatter ceased at once. She could just make out one of Fortuna’s cronies through her scope. She fired. He hit the ground with a satisfying thud that spurred the others into action.

She moved quicker, slipping into the throne room properly, and terminating every single slimy, worthless criminal that crowded the throne. The only one she left alive was Bib Fortuna himself. Boba had demanded the honour of killing him himself.

Fennec heard the frantic rattle of chains, and a female voice whimpering in fear. She allowed her eyes to slide away from Fortuna briefly. What she saw made her stomach twist in anger.

A young Twi’lek girl, no older than Fennec had been the last time she was here, had her wrists bound to a long length of chain, which was in turn fixed to the dais on which the throne sat. She strained against it, trying in vain to detach it. She gazed at Fennec, fear written plainly all over her face, as well as a heartbreaking resignation. The Twi’lek was certain that her life had reached its end. Fennec raised her rifle again and fired at the chain. It severed, and the sudden slack sent the Twi’lek flying backwards onto the floor. 

She looked up at Fennec in disbelief. Fennec cocked her head, a wordless order for the girl to make herself scarce. She didn’t need to be told twice. She scrambled off the floor and fled. 

A shadow slowly descended the staircase now. A silhouette familiar to both Fennec and Fortuna. But where all Fennec felt was triumph - among other, far more thrilling sensations - it was clear all Fortuna felt was fear. 

He babbled some nonsense at Boba, perhaps a plea to spare his worthless life. Wordlessly, Boba shot him, then stepped up on the dais and shoved his body out of the throne. _His_ throne. 

She followed him up on the dais, and stepped behind the throne to the small bar. She snatched a likely looking bottle of spotchka, yanked the cork out with her teeth and spat it to the floor. Sitting on the arm of the throne, she took a swig, the harsh burn of the liquor fuelling the fires of adrenaline that surged through her veins.

It took basking in the total silence for the truth to settle over them. The authority of this place, this room, would be difficult for any small time gang to dispute. Boba sat in the throne as though he were born to do it, the power of his new position radiating off him. 

“A toast to the king of Tatooine’s underworld!” she said. 

She raised the spotchka and took another swig. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and passed the bottle to Boba. He set his helmet on the ground and joined her in her toast.

Fennec slipped off the arm of the throne and landed in his lap. He kissed her roughly, his disbelief and elation at their success manifesting itself as passion and longing. She tasted the spotchka as their tongues swirled together. The mix of arousal and alcohol was intoxicating. She sighed against his lips and squirmed in her seat. She felt him growing harder against her leg. He placed the bottle beside his helmet and spun her so her back was pressed to his chest plate, and her ass rested against his straining cock. 

He brought his gloved fingers up and dragged the leather against her lips. The other rested between her legs, a single digit pressing between her covered folds, stroking slowly. He guided her chin to the side and pressed a long slow kiss against her swollen mouth. Her hips rolled unconsciously against his hand. She was so wet, she was sure he could feel it through his glove. 

“Take off the hand plate,” he ordered, sounding every bit like the ruler he now was. She removed the small piece of beaker from the hand that was still drawing teasing lines along her core, and let it drop to the floor.

He wrenched his hand from her grip and slid it below her waistband. She let out a shuddering gasp, the unexpected feel of the leather on her sensitive flesh making her walls clench.

“You want me to fuck you like this?” he asked, pressing a covered finger against her entrance.

Her assent turned into a drawn out moan as he pushed a finger into her. He pumped the lone digit into her slowly, until she relaxed enough for him to add a second. The glove changed the way his fingers felt inside her, adding new dimensions to the sensation that was already driving her over the edge. Fire spread out from her core. Her knees buckled against his and the muscles of her abdomen seized. All it took was a few more languorous curls of his fingers as his thumb circled her bundle for her to come apart completely on his hand. He stripped off the soiled, soaked glove and pulled her against him. 

“Do you like the view from your throne?” he breathed, dragging his lips along the back of her neck. 

“Mmm,” she mumbled, opening eyes which had closed in bliss. “Though it doesn’t really feel like _my_ throne.”

“No? Allow me to correct that misconception.”

He stood up, taking her with him, then stepped around her and sat her back down. She wiggled in the seat, and set her arms on the armrests. Boba let her get comfortable, carefully removing each piece of his armour as she did.

“I could get used to this,” she said.

She settled back against the hard stone carving that made up the back. Boba stood above her, his gaze searing her skin as he stripped her down to her underwear then knelt before her. 

“Is this the part where you call _me_ ‘princess’?” she smirked. He squeezed her thighs, then dragged her damp underwear down and off.

“You’re no princess, Shand,” he growled, throwing her knees over his shoulders and pulling her hips forward. Her calves rested against his tunic, his body warm with exertion. The heat in his eyes was tinged with reverence.

“I wouldn’t get on my knees for anyone less than my queen.”

She gasped out as he brought his hot mouth to her clit, sucking on the swollen, sensitive bud. His lips and tongue worked in worshipful tandem to bring her to completion again as she ground against him. Her breathing came in faster and faster, sparks of pleasure erupting in her chest. He replaced his mouth with now-bare fingers, stroking her through her orgasm and aftershocks, only relenting once she sagged back.

“The only thing I love more than making you come,” Boba said kissing her trembling thighs, “is watching you when you do.”

He sat back on his heels. 

“Now how does the throne feel?” he asked. He slid his hands back along her legs and massaged her calf muscles.

“I like this,” she teased, looking down at him through half-closed eyes. “My boss on his knees for me. Makes me feel powerful.”

“Tatooine’s underworld might answer to me now,” Boba said, pulling her forward off the throne so she straddled his thighs. “But I will always only answer to you.”

He ran a thumb along her beskar bracelet, which had slid down her arm to her wrist.

“Always? In anything?”

“Just say the word, _cyar’ika_.”

She glanced over her shoulder towards the bar, beside which a fire roared in a huge stone hearth.

“Then go back there and lie down for me.”

***

It was a lucky thing Hutt’s were known for their laziness. 

Boba had told Fennec he would do anything she asked, however the prospect of lying directly on the stone floor was an unpleasant one. But a threadbare, yet serviceable cushion lay before the hearth, and it was there he lay in wait.

When he was settled, Fennec knelt down, then crawled over him, her bare patch of curls hovering agonizingly close to his cock, but not quite making contact. He placed his hands over her ass, attempting to guide her to where he wanted her most. She slithered up his body, snatching his hands as she did. She threaded their fingers together and lifted his arms over his head, as he’d done to her several times before. 

“Hands to yourself, Fett,” she muttered, biting gently at his lower lip. “Or I’ll stop.”

“Temptress,” he said.

“I think the words you’re looking for right now are ‘yes, boss’,” she said wickedly, her lips nipping at his neck. 

When he said nothing, stunned at how she’d managed to turn the tables on him, she paused and flicked her eyes up to meet his.

“Do I keep going?” she asked, lowering her hips so they touched his, letting him feel the heat of her.

“Yes, boss,” he groaned.

“Good. Just say ‘Fortuna’ if you want me to stop.”

Boba lifted his shoulders from the cushion to stare at her in disbelief. She laughed wickedly, then pulled his tunic off easily. Dropping it on the ground beside her, she pressed herself flat against him and kissed her way down his chest. She followed a path of scars, each touch of her mouth burning like a permanent mark left behind to remind him of where she’d been.

He couldn’t help himself. He lowered his arms and worked his fingers into her hair. She froze at once.

“What did I say?”

“I can’t help it.”

She reached between them and caressed his cock gently. He gritted his teeth.

“Do I need to get the binders, Fett?” she asked in mock concern, continuing to stroke him. If she didn't do something more, _anything_ , he would explode. 

“Maybe you should,” he said, challenging.

“Funny you mention it.”

She slid back up his body, holding the same mag cuffs he’d once used on her. She fixed one to his bare wrist, then brought the other - the one with his cuff - to her lips for a quick kiss before fixing the binder over it. 

“I have nothing to fix this to,” she said, engaging the magnet so his arms stuck together over his head. “I’m choosing to trust you. Can I do that?”

“Yes, boss,” he said, grinning now at their role reversal.

He kept his hands firmly planted over his head as she kissed her way down his body, stopping as she reached the waistband of his pants. She quickly freed his cock, then took him immediately in hand to give him a couple of gentle strokes. He hissed at every movement of her fist, a hiss which then turned into a hoarse shout as she suddenly took him in her mouth. His arms twitched with restrained effort. Normally he would grab her hair, to guide her pace, or just to hold her. But if he moved now, she would stop everything. Stop touching him, stop stroking him, stop doing _that_ with her tongue. He bucked his hips helplessly and she smiled around him. She used her hands to stimulate what her mouth could not, and before he knew it his vision went white and he completely came apart.

His head arched back, and he remained in place, breathing hard. 

“Fennec,” he gasped out at last.

“Shhh,” she said. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“I…I need time, I can’t right-”

“ _You_ need time,” she emphasized. “But _I_ don’t.”

She kissed her way back up his body. She separated his hands and lowered them to refasten them over his stomach. She then straddled his chest.

“You can touch my back,” she said. “And _only_ my back.”

“What are you doing?”

“Assuming my throne, of course.”

She slid forward until his lips brushed against her folds, then she spread her knees a little wider. He licked a broad stripe down her centre. She moaned and arched her back, grinding down on his face as she did. She was still sensitive from their exertions on the throne, and it wouldn’t take much to build her back up. He placed his hands on the base of her spine and worked her with his tongue. In no time at all, his face was covered in the evidence of her desire and pleasure. He’d licked at her through her climax. Once her legs stopped shaking, she changed position again, discarding the cuffs that bound his hands in place.

“Giving up on the cuffs already?” he teased.

“With them on, I can’t do this.”

She took both of his hands in hers once more and kissed his knuckles. Pulling his hands apart, she lay his palms on her breasts, and gently bent his fingers in for a better grip.

“Fennec,” he said, feeling his cock grow harder again, “You may once again use me as you see fit.”

When she lowered herself on him, it was with so breathy and shuddering a moan that he was sure he would finish right then and there. She bit down on her lip, adjusting to the way he filled her sensitive flesh. He held perfectly still, giving her the time she needed. She finally nodded and lifted herself partway, only to sink back down with a gasp. He thrust his hips up against her while she rode him and guided his hands around her body to everywhere she wanted to be touched. 

She reached her climax shortly after he did, teasing herself while he palmed at her breasts. Both of them were utterly breathless when she dropped forward onto him and kissed him lazily on the lips. 

“What do we do now?” Fennec asked later, lying on top of Boba with her cheek resting on his chest. “We can’t exactly spend the night in here.”

Boba glanced up at the staircase that led to a corridor he had once been intimately familiar with.

“There are rooms here. Meant for the use of Jabba’s entourage. It’s where they…” No, he would have to be completely honest with her here. “…where _we_ used to go with our chosen companion for the evening.”

“You too?” Fennec asked, raising her eyebrow at him. The briefest glimmer of an indistinguishable emotion danced across her face. 

“You know what my life was like before, Shand. But I promise I never took anyone against her will.”

“I know,” she said, lifting the wrist where he wore her cuff and kissing it. “You’re not that kind of man.” 

He pulled his hand free and caressed her cheek. 

“But I am the kind of man who’d like to find somewhere a little more comfortable to keep pleasuring his wife. Shall we?”

“Lead the way, boss.”

***

The light of the moons slowly disappeared from the large bedchamber and the sky had entered that predawn point where the suns were preparing to rise but were not yet visible. Fennec lay awake, as she had all night, staring at the last of the moonbeams chase each other out of sight. 

They’d settled on the room at the end of the main corridor, in part for the windows that allowed natural light to flow in, but mostly for the obscenely large bed that took up a good deal of the space. 

The bed had been put to good use. They spent the night alternating between the most tender, passionate sex Fennec had ever had, and the simple joy of holding on to one another, discussing vague plans for the future. He’d eventually drifted to sleep, his hand stroking the hair draped down her back, but she stayed awake and watched him. 

She watched the steady rise and fall of his scarred chest, and the way his face relaxed so completely. She adjusted slightly, and warmth blossomed in her chest when his arm automatically tensed around her, keeping her lying against him. They lay that way for hours, with her watching him. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve someone who made her feel so safe, and so loved. And to love him back as much as she did? That was unlike anything she’d ever expected for herself. 

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her mind had wandered enough through the night that it now found itself in that dark place, the one she’d sworn she had moved past. But it was different being back here, where it had all happened. She carefully slid out of bed, pulled on her shirt and leggings - the palace staff were scarce, but she wasn’t taking chances - and padded down the hall towards the throne room. She stepped down from the dais into the pit of sand. 

Her eyes were fixed on a spot on the floor, just beside the trap door into the rancor pit below. The last place she’d ever seen Cutter. She hadn’t given it a thought yesterday, the victory of the day obscuring all else. But now in the quiet of the early morning she finally had a chance, after 25 years, to bid him a proper farewell.

She fell to her knees in the sand and ran her hands over the spot where his body had fallen. She didn’t know what they’d done with him after he died. She didn’t want to think about it. But without a body to bury or burn, she settled for this - making a connection to the last place he’d been alive. The last place they’d been together.

“I did it,” she whispered. “I lived for both of us. I’m seeing the galaxy. I saw a Jedi fight, you would have liked that.”

She heard soft footfalls behind her. Boba must have joined her, but stayed silent while she remained on the ground.

“And I’ve found someone, someone I love so much it hurts. A good man who makes me so, _so_ happy. You’d like him, I think. Or you’d hate each other. It’d be fun for me, either way.”

She laughed quietly to herself at the idea of what Cutter would think of Boba. 

“I hope you can be happy for me. And I hope you’ve found peace, wherever you are,” she finished, palms planted in the sand which now partially covered her fingers. 

“Shand?” Boba said at last, kneeling beside her. She turned towards her husband. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until he gently wiped a tear off her cheek.

“I didn’t get the chance to bury him. Or ever say goodbye really. I’ve moved on, I _know_ I have, and I don’t want you thinking that I still…but being back here…”

“Brought it all back.”

She picked up a scoop of the sand and let it fall back down to the ground. 

“This is all I’ve got to say goodbye to. Just a memory trapped forever in this room.”

“Maybe not,” Boba said, standing. “Grab a handful of sand and come with me.”

He led her carefully up to the top of the palace, up a winding stone staircase. They emerged in a largely empty space, populated only by a few pieces of worn out furniture. Across the room, an opening led out to a large balcony, and that was where he took her. 

She gazed out at the Dune Sea far below them, the first of the suns just peeking over the horizon. Boba watched her as she took in where they were and what he’d asked her to bring. Then, realization dawned.

She extended her hands over the edge of the balcony, opened her fingers and let the sand blow away in the wind. She had no body to burn, or bury, perhaps, but she hoped that she’d at least managed to free Cutter’s soul and his memory from the palace at last. 

She leaned forward on the balcony, resting on her forearms watching the sand scatter and drift in the air. Boba curled his body around her from behind, resting his arms on either side of hers. Her cuff of beskar brushed against his of leather, and she took that hand in her own.

More unburdened than she had been in decades, she looked back towards Boba. He rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his free arm around her. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“It was only symbolic, but I thought it might give you closure,” he said simply. 

“No, for everything.”

“ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_ , _cyar’ika,”_ he murmured in mando’a, kissing her hair. 

“I love you too. I hope I never let you forget just how much.”

They lost track of how long they stood like that, removed from the palace, from the planet, from all the problems they would inevitably have to face and solve. 

For a few moments, they let it remain just the two of them, as close as either had come to peace in years. 

They were everything to each other, and she loved him.

***

Just as he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've come to the end.
> 
> Thank you all so SO much for reading, whether you just got here and read all the way through, or if you've been following along since the beginning through my endless chapter count increases and through my smut learning curve. 
> 
> I appreciate each and every one of you more than you know.
> 
> Though that's it for them for now, who knows? Maybe when Book of Boba Fett comes out I'll do a sequel!


End file.
